


Story of Suka

by Dan_Francisco



Series: Trilogy of Tragedy [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-08-24 12:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16640228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_Francisco/pseuds/Dan_Francisco
Summary: For Cass, the world is better viewed from the bottom of a glass of whiskey. What better way to spend time stuck at an NCR outpost than to drink all day? But, that plan soon falls apart when a strange courier arrives, bringing with her an offer - both to buy out her caravan, and introduce her to something greater.





	1. Long Time Travelin'

Rose of Sharon Cassidy, better known as just “Cass,” had lost track of how long she had been stuck at this outpost. NCR bureaucracy had stalled any progress in or out, and with Caesar's Legion providing a threat too big to ignore, nobody was going anywhere. Especially not Cass. Not when she had a duty to this bar, propping it up day and night, being first one in, last one out. She had gotten friendly with everyone here, the troopers, the Rangers, the caravaners who were stuck like her. New faces were hard to come by.

 

Until one day, when a strange woman, with short bleached white hair, covered in tattoos, walked in. She was clad in combat armor, covering up what Cass assumed to be even more tattoos. A blue skull and crossbones had been tattooed on her cheek, already odd were it not for her arms, which had intricate designs, a strange script she didn't recognize, and imagery that Cass was sure would make sense if the woman told her about it. On her back was a rifle, a relic of a war long since fought. Her blue eyes were piercing, assessing and scanning the room for every little threat.

 

But once she saw Cass sitting at the bar, alone, with a whiskey in her hand, her intense demeanor melted, and a wide smile crossed her round face as she walked over.

_“_ _Privyet,_ new friend!” she said, leaning down to meet Cass at eye level. “You lonely, yes? Would like friend, yes?”

This lady was _weird._ What was with her accent? Did she even know how to talk right?

“Uh,” Cass said, wondering if she had finally overindulged for once in her life. “Look, I dunno what it is you're looking for, but you oughta move along.”

"Oh, do not be that way, new friend. I hear many words of caravan owners, yes? Of one with hat and flower name?”

 

Cass narrowed her eyes, staring down this stranger. “What's your angle here?”

“No angle,” the woman replied, still smiling. “Alicia woman wants company. I bring offer.”

“Alice McLafferty?” Cass said, scoffing. “Yeah, right, I'm not selling.”

“No sell,” she said, pulling out a group of bottles from her bag. “We settle with _alkogol._ ”

Cass didn't need a translation for this one. Drinking games. She could do this, easy.

 

“Alright,” Cass said, nodding. “We'll settle it with whiskey. Not Dixon whiskey – _whiskey._ ”

“Whiskey _and_ good _russkaya vodka_ ,” the woman said, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid. She knew this one too. Not usually her choice of drink, but if this woman wanted to kill her liver faster than Cass was murdering hers, fine.

“I got a head start, but I'll go first anyway,” Cass said, pouring out the first of many shots. Across from her, the mysterious woman looked...cocky, almost. Like she knew something Cass didn't. All Cass had to focus on was the burn of the whiskey in her mouth as it went down.

 

They traded shots of whiskey and vodka, rushing through them like there was an angry Deathclaw on their asses. Cass lost track of time and space, _again_ , drinking and drinking until finally, she couldn't.

“You...you wanna drink more?” Cass asked, trying to judge if her foe was waving a white flag.

“Feel fine. Want more vodka?”

“No...no,” Cass protested. “I...you got me beat. I'm done, caravan's yours. Give me that paper. I'll..I'll put my name to it.”

“Good, good,” the woman said, extending a hand. “ _Ya_ Suka. Good meet.”

 

“That's your name? Suka?” The woman whom Cass now assumed to be 'Suka' nodded, still grinning like an idiot. “Alright then. Cass, but I guess you knew that already.”

“What do now, Cassidy?” Suka asked, genuine concern and curiosity in her voice. At least, Cass _assumed_ it was genuine, given how she sounded.

“No idea,” Cass confessed. “Maybe...head back West? Though the idea of heading back there with my tail between my legs isn't appealing.”

“Could come with me,” Suka replied, tilting her head as she waited for an answer.

“Now why the hell would I do that?” Cass asked deadpan.

“You know what happen here every day,” she argued. “You drink, get hit on, start fight, go back drink. But me? I need someone know roads. You know roads! Is perfect deal.”

 

“So, you're looking for someone to _help,_ not just tag along?” Cass asked, mulling over the idea in her head. “Huh. Alright, walking the Mojave with you can't be any worse than staying here. Let's go.”

Suka must have already charmed her way past Ranger Jackson, since he didn't seem to care that Cass was heading out. The whole sale of the caravan appeared to have been approved before Cass had even taken the first shot of whiskey. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe all of this was worthwhile.

 

* * *

 

 

Their journey together began heading south the next morning, to the smoke trails rising out of Nipton, something Cass could never have seen in the bar. How long had it been this way?

“So, Suka, if you don't mind me asking, what's your plan here? I don't think you're on your way back to the Crimson Caravan with me in tow to confirm the deal.”

“Find _mudak_ ,” she said. “ _Ya_ courier. He stole package. Shot me. Will _kill._ ”

“He shot you?” Cass asked, surprised. “Where at? You look pretty good.”

Suka pointed to her head, and sure enough, there it was, a clear as day grazing wound. Definitely bad enough to knock someone out for a while, but not enough to kill them.

“So he robbed you, too? Stealing from a courier's low, and any family or group he's with is going to get a black eye for it. Think it was personal?”

 

“No,” Suka said. “Wore bad suit. Didn't say name.”

“Well, if it wasn't before, it is _now_ ,” Cass said, surprised at Suka's nonchalance. “If assholes had taste, we'd all be eating shit, I guess. Still, suit means money, and suits stand out, especially in the Mojave. Probably from a bigger town, or Vegas even. That your plan, then? Find him and kill him?”

_“Yes,”_ Suka said grimly. “Take package back. Deliver. Do _job._ _Mudak_ must die.”

“Remind me to hire you next time I need something delivered,” Cass said, settling into the walk to Nipton.

 

The walk itself wasn't long, but the arrival into Nipton itself was... _eerie._ The entire town was deathly calm, and Legion banners had been planted everywhere. Heads were on pikes, as were crucified people on poles. The smell of burning bodies made Cass want to throw up, forcing her to move up her bandana to her mouth in a vain attempt to stem the tide. Suka had done the same, but unlike Cass's visceral reaction she stayed deathly calm, marching through the town to head to the town hall.

 

There stood four men from the Legion, with a fifth one ordering a dog to stay, a pelt on his head. He approached them as Suka stoically walked forward, rifle in hand. For good measure, Cass took hers out too, but this wasn't a fight they could take. Did Suka know that?

 

“Don't worry,” the man with the wolf pelt said. “I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. It's _useful_ that you happened by. I want you to witness the fate of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lessons that Caesar's Legion taught here, _especially_ any NCR troops you run across.”

 

“What 'lesson' taught?” Suka demanded.

“Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? That much was known already. But the depths of their sickness, their... _dissolution?_ Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson.”

“You lucky I want kill another man,” Suka said, through gritted teeth. “You die another day, yes?”

“And so we all shall,” he replied, gesturing for his men to move out. “I do not think this will be the last time we see one another. I bid you 'Vale.'”

 

The two women watched as the Legion departed, each one hungrily eying them as they passed. Once they were out of earshot, Cass cursed the Legion's name, and wondered who she had just thrown her lot in with. If Suka was ballsy enough to stand against a Legionaire and tell him _to his face_ that she'd kill him later, what else would she do?

 

“We look later,” Suka said, putting her rifle on her back and returning to the main road. “To Novac.”

 

* * *

 

 

The pair walked into the local motel, where a miserly older woman rose from her chair, a warm smile on her face as she approached them.

“Welcome, welcome,” the proprietor said, “you look tired from the road. Come on, relax a spell, let this old town take care of you.”

“We not friends,” Suka said, cold as ice.

“Oh, what am I doing?” the woman said, ignoring Suka's less-than-friendly demeanor. “I got to thinking about making a good impression and plain forgot to tell you my name. I'm Jeannie May, I take care of folks at the motel...long as they aren't troublemakers.”

 

“I look for man in checkered coat. You see?”

“Oh, that fancy-pants? Had his nose stuck so high in the air, you couldn't see it above the clouds. City folk, they always think they deserve better than what they got.”

“I not _care_ about opinion,” Suka said, growling. “Where. He. Go.”

“My, my...” Jeannie said, taken aback. “Well, you oughta talk to our daytime sniper, Manny. He's up in the dinosaur, the _hoodlums_ your man was with knew him for some reason.”

 

“ _Spasibo,_ hotel lady,” Suka said, flashing a smile as she stepped out the door.

Cass begrudgingly followed, apologizing for Suka's blunt manner. Immediately after seeing Cass was right behind her, Suka began marching for the dinosaur, regarding it with only a passing interest.

“Was that really necessary, Suka?” Cass asked as they moved into the chain link fence enclosure.

“Was not giving answers. Waste time.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Cass said. “But still. These small-town folk are big on politeness, you know?”

“I said _spasibo_ , _”_ Suka said defensively.

 

“I don't think anyone other than you knows what that means, Suka.”

Suka dismissively waved her off, opening the door to the dinosaur and barely even acknowledging the store owner as she headed to the dinosaur's mouth. The sniper up there turned around, curious as to the interruption.

“What's going on?” Manny asked, cautiously friendly.

“Man in checkered coat,” Suka said. “You see?”

“Sure, I know him,” Manny replied, clearly on his guard. “What do _you_ want with him?”

“He shot me,” Suka said.

 

“Whoa, yeah. Alright then. Listen, I can help you find him, but I got problems of my own. Maybe we can do a trade, you help me, I help you.”

Suka growled again, frustrated at the lack of answers no doubt. “ _Fine._ What need?”

“If you can clear out the old rocket test site for me, that'd be great. Most of the stuff we trade comes from there, but we can't get in now.”

“Sounds like _you_ problem,” Suka replied, crossing her arms. “Why don't you do?”

“I _would,_ ” Manny said. “I gotta watch the road for Caesar's Legion. They just took Nelson, and if my money's right, they're coming here next.”

 

“ _Fine,”_ Suka said. “Problem will make solve. Give me day.”

“Fine by me, as long as it's done,” Manny said, turning his attention back to the road as they departed.

With scarcely a word between them, they headed to the old rocket test site, where Suka held her rifle with a barely-contained rage.

“I'm getting the sense you lied to me, Suka,” Cass said as they hit the outskirts of Novac.

“I not lie,” Suka said quietly.

“You already know these roads,” Cass replied, on the lookout for any threats. “You know what you're looking for. You don't _need_ me. So why ask me to come with you?”

 

“ _Mudak_ who stole from me has powerful friends, yes? You said self, has money. Lives in Vegas, yes? I need...how you say... _back up?_ Friend. Coat man is dangerous.”

“So, what, I'm just a hired gun?” Cass asked, stopping. If that's all she was, she wasn't taking another step with this madwoman.

“ _No,_ ” Suka said, pausing to face her. “I hear your name before, Cassidy. Story of flower girl who shoot well and drink. Who build caravan company from ground. I not _stupid_. I want good shooter. That you.”

 

“All I hear is 'I want someone who can handle a gun,' but you can get that from any two-bit merc out there.”

“ _Not want svoloch mercenary!”_ Suka shouted. “Want _good_ person! You _good!_ Help me, I help you, yes? That how world work, yes?”

Cass sighed, rolling her eyes. She was really desperate to keep Cass on, wasn't she? “Alright. Fine. After this, I want to take a detour. Visit my caravan. Pay my respects. Couldn't see what happened when I was at the Outpost, but now that I'm free? We're going there.”

 

Suka visibly relaxed, calming down enough that her angry frown had been replaced by a soft smile. “We do,” she promised. “But first, kill _upyr_ , yes?”

“Kill what?”

“Not-dead men,” she explained. “Sand skin, yes?”

Oh. _Ghouls._ She was talking about _ghouls._

“Yeah, fine,” Cass said, checking her ammo quickly. Plenty of rounds, just in case this test site was more dangerous than this sniper let on.

 

The first few ghouls on the access road to the facility were easy pickings, barely even a footnote in history. Suka methodically cleared out the checkpoint, asking Cass to watch the road while she opened every box, on a hunt for ammo. Not a single bullet went by her unchecked – she made sure every round she came across either fit her weapon, or would be useful If broken down. Suka must have had a knack for hand-loading, Cass figured. It was the only explanation she saw.

 

Heading down the road to the facility, Suka noted three ghouls milling about in the general area, and snuck in closer with Cass right behind to get the drop on them. One, two, three shots from her rifle and about as many from Cass's shotgun when they got too close for comfort, and they were done. They trekked up the stairs, dispatching two more ghouls without issue.

 

“Many _upyr_ here, I think,” Suka said, reloading her rifle. “Dangerous. Have grenades?”

“What?” Cass asked. “Grenades? I don't think you know how ghouls work, Suka. We oughta stick close, use shotguns and melee if we have to.”

“If not see, not hear, they not move. Easy to kill. We must quiet, yes? Like mouse in church.”

“Alright, Suka,” Cass said, gesturing to the door. “Lead the way.”


	2. Devil Don't You Fool Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass and Suka head into the rocket facility to clear out the ghouls, but find an unexpected cold war raging inside.

Suka cautiously opened the door, aiming her rifle at every possible corner which could have hidden a ghoul. A small box on the wall crackled, and a voice came over it.

“Hey! Are you listening? Go to the big room on the east side of this building and take the metal staircase all the way up. And hurry.”

The voice didn't stay long enough to provide answers, and it only brought some of the ghouls out of hiding. A short gunfight later, and Suka and Cass could now take stock of the abandoned facility. A dead blue super mutant lay on the floor, with an equally dead ghoul in a set of robes lying across from him.

 

“No bites,” Suka said as she examined the super mutant. “ _Upyr_ not animal. Was smart.”

“What the hell's a non-feral ghoul doing fighting a super mutant?” Cass asked, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“Find out, yes?” Suka said, already heading into the facility, rounding a corner to shoot another ghoul in the face.

Walking through the facility revealed a trail of more ghouls in robes, and even more ferals who attacked on sight. Finally, they made their way to the described large room, and took the stairs as told. A small box, much like the one they had found when they first came in, was on the wall before a metal door. Suka saw no way to open it, and poked the box until something happened.

 

“All right, smoothskin,” the voice said. “I'm letting you in. You better watch yourself. I'll sure as hell be watching you.”

The door opened, and before them stood...a balding man, clearly not a ghoul, just trying to _sound_ like one. He visibly winced at them, almost as if he was disgusted by them.

“God, but are you _ugly!_ Get upstairs and talk to Jason before I throw up at the sight of you.”

 

Suka rolled her eyes, and intentionally bumped past him as she walked to head upstairs. Cass didn't see much point talking to him. If he wanted to play ghoul, he could do that all he wanted. Upstairs, they passed by actual ghouls this time, each wearing robes like the ones they had found on the dead ones downstairs. Suka walked into what looked like a control room, where various experiments were being undertaken as ghouls talked to themselves about things that, to Cass, made no sense. A glowing ghoul walked towards them, waving his hand to greet them.

 

“Hello, wanderer,” he said. “Please forgive us of our humble surroundings. Our true home awaits us in the Far Beyond. Have you come to help us complete the Great Journey?”

“What 'Great Journey?'” Suka asked, folding her arms and frowning.

“We wish to escape the barbarity of the wastelands,” the glowing one explained, “especially the violence and bigotry of its human inhabitants. The creator has promised to my flock a new land, a place of safety and healing...a paradise in the Far Beyond. Preparations for the Great Journey were nearly complete when the demons arrived.”

 

“Hold on,” Cass asked, “who are you? You're Jason, right?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “Jason Bright, to be exact, the prophet of the Great Journey. All the ghouls you see here are members of my flock.”

“Glowing _upyr_ with name Bright,” Suka said, cracking a gleeful smile. “Is funny.”

“An auspicious name, don't you think? It was mine even before I became as I am now. Before the Great War. Truly does our Creator author a destiny for each and every one of us...”

“Tell me of demons,” Suka demanded, back to frowning.

 

“The demons appeared from nowhere,” Jason said. “Except it might be more accurate to say they never actually 'appeared' at all. The demons are invisible. Where one of them stands, the most one might see is the air shimmering, like sunlight on water...they set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement. My flock fought bravely, and killed a few, but at such cost. Nearly half of us died or went missing. The rest of us retreated up here, one of the demons raved at us, but they have not tried to attack us since. Still, they stop all progress for the Great Journey.”

 

“You say one 'raved' at you?” Cass asked.

“Yes, over the intercom. Threats of death should we step outside, guarantees of safety should we stay locked away. It went on for hours, and did not always make sense. But that was the first day only. Since then, silence. Will you drive away the demons, wanderer?”

Cass looked over to Suka, who seemed more and more displeased with this entire affair with the passing second. This was _not_ what she had signed up for, and Cass knew it. It was a wonder Suka hadn't already started shooting, given that was really their original goal here.

 

Suka grumbled, muttering something in her strange language, before rolling her eyes at the ghoul. “Fine. I kill demons. Happy?”

“Praise the creator!” Jason said, throwing his hands to the air. “Bless you, wanderer! Bless us all! As soon as the underground is cleared of demons, we can continue preparations for the Great Journey!”

Jason handed Suka a key, and without much else in the way of fanfare, the two left again to head to the basement on their mission to destroy the “demons.”

 

“ _Grebanaya_ _der'mo_ _,_ ” Suka said as she headed down the metal stairs again.

“Frustrated?” Cass asked, though she knew the answer. Suka whipped her head around, frowning intensely as pure anger was written on her face.

“ _Prizrachnyy chelovek_ knows more than says,” she said. “Not find suit man soon. Want blow up entire building.”

“If you're gonna do that, let me know so I can clear out, okay?”

Suka only growled angrily in response. _Note for next time,_ Cass thought, _don't joke around when Suka's mad._

 

They were about to enter the basement when Suka paused, muttering in her language as she bowed her head and clasped her hands together. After about a minute, she looked back up with an almost renewed vigor in her eyes, taking her rifle in her hand.

“May I ask what that was?” Cass cautiously probed.

“Prayer,” Suka answered. “ _Arkhangel Mikhail_ will protect.”

“Alrighty then,” Cass said. “You ready?”

“ _Yes.”_

 

* * *

 

 

The entrance to the basement was cold and damp, with makeshift bedding covering the first room they walked into. The hallway that led out of this room was equally dour, with dim blue lights the only thing allowing them to see. Like elsewhere, Suka carefully checked both corners before easing her way into the hallway, arbitrarily going to the left. So far, no sight of these so-called 'demons,' but Cass reckoned a guess that their supposed invisible nature might have something to do with that.

 

A pair of staircases led further down, one straight ahead and the other to the right. Suka looked between them, to Cass, and then just as arbitrarily opted to go to the right, heading to a shut door. She cautiously opened it, revealing a blue super mutant on the other side, but instead of rushing forward to attack like Cass expected, it held a Brahmin skull up to its ear.

“What's that, Antler? We have a visitor? An assassin, more like! Kill it, Antler, for safe's sake!”

Suka and Cass stared at him, where he looked back at the skull, before frowning.

“Hmm? Okay Antler, I'll ask.” He paused, and stared at the pair. “Uh...hi, humans. Why you come here?”

 

“The ghouls upstairs sent us,” Cass said, figuring she would be able to explain this better than Suka would.

“A human friendly to ghouls?” the super mutant asked. “Hmm. Suspicious. Antler used the intercom, told them stay put. But they want to come in basement anyways? I cannot allow. My kin are…not right in head like I am. They attack you on sight. Ghouls too. They crazy. Your ghoul friends have to wait until you find what Antler brought us to get.”

“We go then,” Suka said, starting to turn around.

 

“No, Antler says you are solution,” the super mutant said. “Plus, can't have you skulking around, making _trouble._ Do as Antler says, or feel his horns. Up to you.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Suka growled. “What need do _this time?_ ”

“Shipment invoice. Hundreds of Stealth Boys, sent here a long time ago...but Stealth Boys must be in only room we not search. Can't search.”

“Why can't you look in there?” Cass asked. “Too big to fit in the door?”

“No,” he said, indignant. “A ghoul. But not squishy like the others. This one tough. I thought Antler said send my kin into that room, but ghoul set up traps and kill us. So I lock door, keep him in and us out. Wait for Antler to tell me what to do.”

 

“We find Stealth Boys,” Suka said, “then you leave with kin, yes?”

“Yes, Antler says we leave as soon as we find Stealth Boys. Here, have key to room.”

The super mutant tossed them a key, and turned around to do...obviously, something of importance to him. The less time they spent here, the better. The two moved to the room he pointed out, the locked one that supposedly had a deadly ghoul in it.

 

“So,” Cass asked as she checked her shotgun before going in. “You buy this mutant's story?”

“No,” Suka replied. “Not care. Want find suit man. Step to finding.”

Suka unlocked the door, and stepped through it. Immediately, they heard a rifle being cocked, followed up by a rough, gravelly voice.

“Come and get it, you big dumb – hey, wait, you're not one of those things out there. Who the hell are _you?_ ”

 

“Jason want me get rid of demons,” Suka said, keeping a finger near the trigger of her rifle in case this ghoul turned out to be a bit off his rocker.

“And I bet he told you it's the creator's will for you to risk your ass instead of him, right? Well, good luck with that! I'd help, but I'm partial to living.”

“You don't look like the other ghouls from Jason's group,” Cass noted.

“Guess the outfit gave it away, huh? Yeah, I never bought into that religious mumbo-jumbo. It gets lonely out in the wastes, alright? And I don't have to tell you that Bright's group has some fine-looking ghoulettes in it!” He paused for a few moments. “Eh...or maybe I _would_ have to tell you.”

 

“Look, we gotta check this place out, alright?” Cass said. “You feel like leaving?”

“No, but tell you what. I lost a friend of mine down here, she ran the wrong way. Find her if you can, let me know what happened, but until you do, I'm not leaving, got it?”

“ _Not finding suit man,_ ” Suka warned.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Cass said to her before turning back to the ghoul. “Fine, we'll look for her, alright?”

“Good. I'll be here until you do.”

 

Suka continued to grumble as they headed out, searching around for another ghoul who may or may not even be alive anymore. They searched the basement, coming across a super mutant with a flamethrower than singed Cass's hat and nearly lit Suka alive, and only after killing at least four other super mutants did they find one with a key. They had only come across one locked door during their search. This key had to be part of it.

 

Cass and Suka followed the staircase down into a generator room of sorts, with open doors and small storage rooms providing cells for a makeshift jail. Behind one locked door, they found a dead female ghoul. This must have been the friend the ghoul with the rifle talked about.

“Dead, not big surprise,” Suka observed, swiftly turning around and heading back. “Waste time.”

 

Suka angrily marched back to the ghoul, where he asked if they had found her. She told him they had, and he looked regretful, only nodding after muttering “I see.” He gave them 'permission' to rummage around on top of his hiding spot, and left the basement, no doubt making his escape to the surface. Suka ignored him as he rushed past her, only seeking out any information to the supposed Stealth Boy cache.

 

She found a terminal, reading through it before realizing something, waving Cass over after she whistled to get her attention.

“What's the issue?” Cass asked, jogging over.

“Can't read anymore,” Suka said, pointing to the screen. “Read.”

Cass scrolled through the terminal entries. It wasn't good. There _had_ been a shipment of Stealth Boys here at one time, but the test site had sent them back since it was a mistake, with the exception of five. Apparently some employees had gotten a little grabby with each other, and used them to facilitate it.

 

Suka muttered angrily to herself again, only repeating “waste time” in English. She clearly wasn't happy with this continued sidetracking. “Fine,” she said. “We tell mutant. Will leave.”

She began walking back to the super mutant, teeth gritted so hard Cass could practically hear them grinding over each other from where she was. Suka marched into the room with the mutant, and walked up to him as he asked for the Stealth Boys.

“Not here,” Suka said.

“Liar!” the mutant declared. “The invoice said Stealth Boys _here!_ Antler read it out to me!”

“They were sent here by mistake,” Cass filled in. “They sent them back.”

“But invoice said Stealth Boys were here! Why can't that note be true?”

 

The mutant suddenly looked over to the Brahmin skull, putting a hand up to his ear as if he was hard of hearing. “What, Antler?...But humans could be lying! Stealing Stealth Boys for themselves!” He paused again, as 'Antler' seemingly responded. “Aw, Antler...you trust so easy...Your lucky day, _humans._ Antler believe you. Nightkin will follow new note to Stealth Boys. Better be there.”

 

He walked out, calling for the other so-called Nightkin to follow him, and one by one, they flooded out of the facility, on their way to new grounds. Hopefully.

“Finally,” Suka said on their way to report back to Jason. “Mutants leave. _Upyr_ leave too. Then find suit man from sniper.”

“Something tells me it's not going to be that simple,” Cass said.


	3. Come Fly With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suka solves the problem at the rocket test site, and continues on her path to find the man who shot her.

Suka's rage was palpable.

 

Jason and his followers had just left, right after Jason had announced the way was clear and that he hoped Suka would follow them downstairs. She had done so, only to find that past the decrepit basement and winding sewage tunnels, that Jason had asked her to do _one more thing_ for him.

 

And it all relied on this idiot who thought he was a ghoul.

 

Before Suka felt obliged to whip out her gun and start shooting, Cass had to know. “You don't seriously intend to use these rockets, right?”

“Yes,” Jason said with full sincerity. “The rockets will convey us to the Far Beyond. Vision upon vision has confirmed it.”

“Rockets _convey_ you to ground!” Suka shouted, her hand hovering over her pistol.

“I understand your concerns, friend, and I thank you for voicing them,” Jason relied, ignorant to her emotions. “But the creator's will for us has been made manifest.”

“Alright, fine, I guess,” Cass said. “See you, Jason.”

“There is no way that we can thank you enough, wanderer,” Jason said. “Your arrival here was a blessing. We will remember you always.”

 

Behind them, the scientist they now knew as Chris coughed. “Jason says I'm to cooperate with you two on the final tasks for the Great Journey.”

“Tell me what do before I kill,” Suka growled.

“Jeez, calm down. Fuck, _this_ is why I hate you smoothskins,” Chris said. “We need Isotope-239 igniting agents, and a set of thrust control modules. You need to find a potent source – what we have down there isn't enough. The modules were custom-built. These won't even launch without them.”

 

“ _Fine,”_ Suka said. “Will find stupid electronics for stupid rockets.”

“Alright, good,” Chris said, ignorant to her clear and present anger. “See you around, then.”

Suka muttered something incomprehensible in response, heading outside. Cass had never seen someone climb a ladder _angrily_ before, but traveling with Suka had given her a lot of firsts so far. And hell, all of this was just in one day.

 

It was nighttime when they got out of the test site, and another hour or so before arriving back in Novac. They rented a room at the local motel, finally off their feet for a while as Suka thought about how to solve this problem.

“Scrap yard must have stupid thing,” she said, half to herself more than anything. “Will look tomorrow.”

“Any idea about this fuel thing?”

“No. Will figure out.”

“Don't think too hard, Suka. Wouldn't want you to tax your head any more.”

 

Suka glared at Cass, clearly upset. “I say before. _I. Not. Stupid._ Do not think bad English make me dumb. Forget English after shoot in head.”

“So you're telling me you used to speak just fine? Then you got shot and it all went away?”

Suka nodded. “Ask Doctor Mitchell. He know. Help.”

“And where's this 'Doctor Mitchell' at?”

“Is in Goodsprings,” she said. “We visit later, yes? Must fix problem now with rocket and suit man.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Suka managed to get the modules from Old Lady Gibson, and even at a discount after some back-and-forth haggling, parts she less-than-cheerfully took to Chris. He gave them a further tip for their next task – industrial ruins. Suka and Cass stood in front of the ruins, staring at a dead body clad in a yellow suit and their Geiger counters clicking.

 

“You can't seriously be thinking about going in there,” Cass said, even as Suka was examining the body.

“Trust, but verify,” she said. “Maybe is not so bad.”

Suka continued to rummage around the body, reading over a journal the dead man had left behind, before lazily tossing it away. She picked up an odd canister, with green liquid inside.

“Hmm. Must be fuel, yes? We take to idiot.”

 

Looked like they weren't doing any radioactive scavenging today. Maybe another time.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris appreciated the lengths they went to in order to retrieve the last necessary components, even if Suka was less than enthused about being their continued errand girl. Eventually, Jason and his followers gathered, and revealed they would not be taking Chris with them. The speech was long, and not something Cass paid attention to. Throughout it all, Suka seemed to just _smile_ as Jason revealed the truth. It was like music to her ears.

 

“Did you hear him?” Chris said, clearly distraught. “I'm no ghoul! They were using me...”

“Pathetic,” Suka said. “Of course they leave behind. Useless.”

“Leave me alone!” Chris shouted. “Everyone else does!”

Suddenly, Cass watched a devious grin cross the courier's face. What was she thinking?

“You know,” Suka said, oddly cheerful. “Could take revenge. Jason say science-man worthless.”

“Worthless, huh?” Chris said, his eyes suddenly full of rage. “I'll show them worthless! Here, this is a code to change the navigation coordinates. Send those rockets into each other.”

 

Suka grinned wide. “ _Da,_ new friend.” Before Cass could even react, Suka had pulled out a pistol, planting a bullet right in Chris's forehead. He slumped against the control panel, dead as blood poured out of him.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Cass shouted, jumping back. “What the hell did you do that for?!”

Suka calmly engaged the weapon's safety, and put it back in its holster. “Science-man talk too much. Would talk of idea. No risks.”

“That doesn't give you permission to _kill_ him! He didn't do anything wrong!”

 

“Sniper ask me clear building of _upyr._ He thought was _upyr._ I kill _upyr._ Simple.”

“He _wasn't_ one!” Cass said, frowning. “If this is how you're going to treat people who didn't do a damn thing wrong, we're fucking _done._ ”

Suka frowned, staring Cass down with an evil eye. “I make like glass, yes? I get job. I _do_ job. Nothing stop me _finish_ job. _Ponimayu?_ ”

“I don't know who you think you are,” Cass said. “You _don't_ get to treat people like this. Can I expect to get a bullet in _my_ head if you decide I'm gonna talk too much?”

 

“No,” Suka said, still frowning. “You friend, Cassidy. I no kill friends. Want visit caravan? Come with me. Want go West? Then go West. _Ya_ no care. If you no like methods, this only time. Is promise, yes?”

Cass's eyes narrowed. If what this crazy courier was saying was true, this was a one-time event. But, it still nagged at her. This was strike one, Cass reasoned. If she did this again, or God forbid a third time, she'd go West and never look back.

“Fine,” Cass said, folding her arms. “Consider this your first strike, Suka. Don't piss me off again.”

 

Suka smiled. _That damn smile._ She could melt even a Fiend's heart with that. “I know you want stay friend,” she said. “Let us go launch rocket, yes?”

Begrudgingly, Cass followed the courier up to the launch platform. Suka gleefully entered the modified navigation coordinates, and pulled the lever to launch the rockets. Within seconds of taking off, the rockets collided into each other, the orchestral music punctuated by Suka's maniacal laughter.

“Is like firework show, yes?” Suka asked in between fits of laughter.

 

Cass didn't say anything, either there or on the way back to Novac. This woman clearly was not all she sold herself as at the Outpost.

 

* * *

 

 

“OK, Mr. Sniper Man,” Suka said as she walked up to the dinosaur's mouth. “ _Upyr_ are not at building anymore!"

“You got rid of the ghouls?” Manny said, incredulous. “Unbelievable, man! I knew that wasn't gonna be easy! But, I had a good feeling about you. You look like you've been through a lot.”

“ _Da, da,_ ” Suka said, waving a hand dismissively. “Suit man. Tell me. Now.”

“Okay, I'll tell you, like I promised. So, the guy you're looking for, Benny, he was traveling with some members from my old gang. They were going to Boulder City.”

“Why go Boulder City?” Suka asked.

 

“No clue,” Manny confessed, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Benny hadn't paid up yet. Maybe that's how they were supposed to get square.”

Suka nodded, putting a finger on her chin as she thought for a moment, before again flashing that smile of hers. “All I need know. Thanks, Mr. Sniper Man!”

“Yeah, no problem,” Manny said. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Yes, yes,” Suka said, waving goodbye.

 

* * *

 

 

They had been on the road for another hour before Cass dared to even speak up. There was just too much tension between them now – she hoped Suka saw it. It was driving Cass up the fucking wall.

“So, we still have the same plan here?” Cass asked. “Find this Benny, and kill him?”

“Yes,” Suka said. “Benny die. Then caravan.”

“No offense,” Cass said, “but I'd rather check my caravan first. Wanna make peace before I go challenging some New Vegas hotshot.”

Suka sighed, but relented. “Fine. We look caravan, then kill Benny. Yes?”

“Yeah,” Cass said.

 

“Dark soon,” Suka said as they neared Boulder City. “Get room. Ask locals. Find Benny, yes?”

“What makes you think he's here?”

“People see. Walls see. They know where Benny go.”

Cass shrugged her shoulders. “Alright, then.”

 

The two entered Boulder City, noting the distinct lack of _anyone_ other than a traveling merchant and a bored NCR soldier, leaning against a destroyed house. The local saloon offered nothing of value, other than a refreshing shot of vodka for Suka and a nice hit of whiskey for Cass. With little options, the two opted to sleep in an abandoned house that still had relatively decent beds. It beat camping out on the desert, Cass reasoned.

 

They woke up at about seven the next day, to the sound of shouting. A quick investigation revealed a previously-hidden NCR roadblock, with a lieutenant blocking their way. Suka tried to go through to see what the fuss was about, only to be stopped by the officer.

 

“Hold on there, lady,” he said. “We've got a situation with some Great Khans right now. This place is under lockdown until we resolve it.”

“What issue with Great Khans?” Suka asked.

“One of my patrols was on its way back when they took fire from Great Khans. They radioed for reinforcements, but instead of waiting, they just chased them into the ruins here and got caught in a crossfire. Got some wounded taken prisoner in there.”

“Great Khans may have package I need deliver,” Suka said.

“Well, once they're either killed or captured, you're welcome to retrieve any property they might've taken from you.”

 

“Better idea,” Cass said. “How about we negotiate with these guys? My companion here's got a silver tongue.”

The lieutenant seemed skeptical, raising an eyebrow at the claim. “Well, usually I wouldn't, but...the hostages are as good as dead if we attack. Alright. Their leader is a man named Jessup. But I gotta warn you – if things go south, we're opening fire, deal or no deal.”

“Understood,” Cass said.

“Is not problem,” Suka replied. “Let us _negotiate,_ as you say?”

 

Shaking his head, already regretting this decision, the lieutenant let them through, giving word that they were to negotiate. Cass and Suka walked past the troopers, the Great Khans, and entered a small building, where Jessup and two other Khans were situated behind a counter. Jessup looked surprised to see the Courier.

 

“What the hell,” he said, eyes wide in terror. “You're that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings. You're supposed to be dead!”

“Surprise!” Suka said, grinning. This changed quickly, however, when she got down to business. “You have my package. I want. _Now._ ”

“Yeah...about that...” Jessup said.

Suka's eyes narrowed, and she glowered at the Great Khan. “Where. Is. Chip?”

“Don't have it,” Jessup said, sarcastically. “Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He's probably at the Strip by now, laughing at me.”

 

“Alright, well, you got _your_ answer, Suka,” Cass said. “How's about we settle things between you and the NCR.”

“What's there to settle?” Jessup asked. “NCR backs off, we walk out, nobody gets hurt. Simple as that.”

“Free the hostages now, and the NCR will walk you back to your territory,” Cass said. Was she really saying this? Did she even have the authority to promise that?

Jessup sighed heavily, before shaking his head. “You know, I can't believe I'm doing this, but alright. The hostages can go. NCR better keep their word this time.”

 

As he was heading out to release the hostages, he turned and tossed a lighter at Suka. “Here,” he said. “Souvenir for you. Benny's lighter. Shove it up his ass next time you see him.”

Suka smiled, and tucked the lighter away in a pocket. Their new mission finished, she and Cass headed back to report the good news to the lieutenant.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is such a fucking joke,” Cass said, folding her arms.

“Great Khans agree to let hostages go,” Suka said, near the tipping point of anger. “Why try kill?!”

“Look, my hands are tied,” the lieutenant said. “I can't go against orders...can I?”

“If you've got any _integrity,_ ” Cass said, “you'll honor the deal.”

“You're right,” he said. “They're free to go.”

 

Suka sighed again, rolling her eyes and muttering to herself as she left the area.

“How the hell can you still be pissed off when we did something _good?_ ” Cass asked.

“NCR foolish,” she said, barely concealing her contempt. “Try to be good, but stop soldiers from doing things. Is stupid. Too worried about politics.”

“And what's your alternative, the Legion?”

 _“No,_ ” Suka said. “Legion _animals._ Can all _gori v adu._ Want give Caesar own medicine.”

“Sounds like you got an ax to grind,” Cass noted.

 

Suka took a deep breath, and Cass saw her shoulders go up and down visibly, as if she was trying to contain a rage burning deep within her. “Not want talk. Go Vegas. Find Benny.”

“Don't forget about our deal, Suka,” Cass reminded her.

“I never forget.”

 

“Fancy meeting you here, friend!”

A robot, with a cowboy face on its screen, stared at them as Suka did everything in her willpower to get it to die with her eyes.

“I no like being followed, robot,” Suka said.

“Now, now, it ain't my fault that Dorothy and the Tin Man happened to be on the same yellow-striped road, is it?”

“What of ever,” Suka said, rolling her eyes. “See Benny?”

“Fancy-pants? No, I ain't seen hide or hair of him since the tussle in Goodsprings. I'm sure he ran back to the soft living of New Vegas, though.”

 

Suka growled again, turning around to head further down the road – and away from this robot. “ _Do svidaniya,_ Victor,” she said.

“Look me up when you get to New Vegas!” he called. “I'll buy the first round.”

Once they had moved far away from the robot – benign or not – Cass had to probe. It was clear these two had some kind of history.

“What was up with the robot?” Cass asked, not even bothering with subtlety. Suka certainly didn't half the time.

“Help me in Goodsprings,” she said. “Was nice.”

“What's he now?”

 

“ _Annoying,_ ” Suka said through gritted teeth. “Follow me. I see Novac, when we rent room. Talk there. He say know nothing. Lying.”

“How the hell do you know if a robot can lie?”

“How can not? All things lie. Will kill if in Vegas.”

Cass scoffed. “You're gonna shoot up one of those things in New Vegas? Are you nuts?”

“No. Is...how you say, _defense of self_ , yes? Robot threat. I kill threat.”

 

Sometimes, Cass wondered if Suka's simple logic was a result of her limited English, or if that's just how she really thought things through sometimes. Either answer wasn't outside the realm of possibility – she had shot Chris in cold blood for nothing more than claiming to be a ghoul, when she had been sent there to clear them out. But now she was talking about lighting up what looked to be a decently-armed robot in the New Vegas strip. Maybe she had a point, maybe she didn't. All Cass had to make sure of was that she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire if things went south.


	4. Ain't No Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass gets a chance to visit her caravan. Suka and Cass finally reach the Strip, but need to find a new way in.

The two had stopped at a rustic rest stop along the highway, barely keeping itself up with its rotting wood beams and sheet metal roofs. Cass knew this road. It was close to where her caravan was ambushed.

“Hey, Suka,” Cass said, putting down her bowl of pork n' beans.

“Hmm?”

“We're close. If we go down that road, we'll find it. I know we will.”

Suka looked confused for a second, staring down the road before the gears finally clicked in her head. “Oh, Cassidy's caravan, _da._ Will pay respects, yes? Quick time?”

“Yeah, it'll be quick,” Cass said, somberly.

 

Suka nodded, paying the owners for the food and grabbing her bag, heading out with Cass to the forsaken caravan. The trek wasn't any longer than ten minutes, but it was a long ten minutes. They arrived to find practically nothing. The bodies were just ash piles, vaporized by something, and the entire caravan had been ransacked. Who knew how long the Brahmin had been rotting here, being picked apart by crows and nightstalkers.

 

" _God,_ ” Cass said, shaking her head sadly. “There's almost nothing left. Looks like whoever it was – was just in the mood for killing.”

She headed over to the caravan's former contents, rummaging through them. That was weird. They were vaporized, too. The reports she got said “vaporized” but she thought that meant burned, not wiped away completely. It was close to the Vegas wall, too. Must have happened during the day, no signs of a camp nearby.

“No camp,” Cass said. “Ambushed in the day. What a joke.”

“Why ambush in day?” Suka asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cass said. “Catch the sun in their eyes? Make the caravan come to them? We should check the wagon, they might not have got everything.”

 

Suka and Cass approached the wagon, still attached to the Brahmin and on its side. Cass reminded Suka that whatever they found, she could have it – it didn't have any worth to her anyway, and traveling all this way for her, may as well give Suka something for her troubles. They found not much, aside from some drained energy cells and broken boxes. This was all pointing to a clear sign – someone with energy weapons, and a _lot_ of them, had hit this caravan.

 

“You know what...” Cass said. “What happened to my caravan? Not the first time I've heard of it happening.”

“ _Da,_ I agree,” Suka said. “I hear tale like. Have others?”

“Yeah, one of our caravans got hit a few months back, same story. Caravan was burned with the cargo. We should check it out. I wonder if whoever hit them made the same mistake, and that other caravan got hit with energy weapons too.”

“Want look?” Suka asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, it's a hell of a detour, though. Here, location's in your Pip-Boy. You sure you wanna go? I know how you are about this Benny.”

 

Suka took a look at the location, frowning.

“If have time, yes. Is terrible. Bad men must killed, yes?”

“ _That_ I can agree on. Let's move out.”

 

* * *

 

 

The detour to Cass's other caravan would have to wait. Suka had gone back to her old mission – finding Benny and killing him once and for all. They had arrived in Freeside, moving past a group of men with weird haircuts and black leather jackets that said “KINGS” on the back. Freeside was a waste, and that was describing it _kindly_. Gunshots and echoing screams bounced off the destroyed walls, telling the tale of a desolate community wracked by violence of all kinds. Cass scarcely felt safe even in her own skin here.

 

“Ugh,” Cass said as they moved through the town. “Once had a King following me like I'm following you – had to chase him off with a shotgun.”

“Is good idea,” Suka said, half-ignoring her as she moved through the town, heading right for the Strip. Music mixed with the sounds of violence as they neared the security checkpoint, guarded by three Securitrons. The cop faces looked halfway between accommodating and stern, depending on how you looked at it.

 

Suka began walking towards it, where a man stopped her, holding out a hand.

“You look new to Freeside,” he said, his smooth voice causing her to look him up and down. “So, here's a little advice, friend. Don't go past the south gate greeter without talking to it first.”

“I not _stupid,_ _plavnyy razgovornik_ ,” Suka said. “Stay out way.”

Cass and Suka approached the gate, where the lead Securitron on the ground rolled towards them. “Submit to a credit check, or present your passport for verification.”

 

Suka growled. “Fine. Do check of credit.”

“I'm sorry,” it said, almost regretful. “But your balance does not meet the minimum balance.”

Suka gritted her teeth angrily, before shaking her head. “ _Fine._ I get money. _Glupyy robot_.”

“Please do not insult Strip Security personnel,” the Securitron warned, surprising Suka. “Please return when you have sufficient caps or a passport.”

 

Suka shook her head, and walked away from the gate, cursing to herself the entire way.

“Alright, so, what's the play here, Suka?”

“Have many caps,” she said, “but not enough. Need more.”

“Ok, 'many caps' isn't a number. How many have you got?”

“ _Vosem'sot,”_ Suka said, showing her bag of caps. Couldn't have been more than 800 by Cass's reckoning.

 

“Yeah, something tells me we're not gonna get enough in time. Benny might make an escape. We need a passport, and _fast._ ”

Suka gritted her teeth again, fists tightening. “ _Etot chertov ublyudok!_ How shoot way in, yes?! Take on _glupyye roboty_!”

“Okay, don't do something stupid, Suka,” Cass said, holding her back from drawing her rifle and opening fire. “You saw the bodies. They'll waste anyone that tries taking them on. Can't kill Benny if you're _dead._ ”

 

Suka's anger faded, replaced by a sorrowful frown and a soft exhale of breath. “ _Da._ You right, Cassidy. Need passport.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cass replied, smiling softly now that she had convinced the Courier not to throw their life away. “Let's start asking around.”

“Kings run town,” Suka said. “Ask them, yes? Help us, yes?”

“I guess we'll see,” Cass replied, following Suka to the King's hangout.

 

* * *

 

 

They entered the King's hideout, with a man in the same weird haircut and a black getup, a black-and-white striped shirt underneath, leaning against a door.

“What do we have here?” he asked, looking them over. “Another petitioner for the King?”

“ _Da_ ,” Suka said. “I want see King.”

“Well, anything's possible, I suppose,” he said. “How much is it worth to you to meet the _big man?_ ”

 

Suka frowned. “Want money? Have fifty caps. Show me to King, _vymogatel'.”_

“You know, I think you and the King have some things to discuss,” the man said, smiling as he pocketed the caps. He unlocked the door he was standing in front of, leading them to the King, where he sat with a robotic dog at his side, watching potential gang members perform for him. The King smiled as he looked up at them, petting the dog.

“Look, Rexie,” he said, “someone's come to see us. Poor boy, he hasn't been feeling well lately. I'm the King. What can I do for you?”

“Need passport get in Strip. Help, yes?”

“Sure thing, little lady, but I can't give that sort of thing out for free, yanno. Tell you what, you look like you can handle yourself. Notice those bodyguards around the place? My boys tell me one of them, fellow named Orris, is doing a little too well. I wanna know why. Here's some caps, hire him, find out what makes him so popular around here.”

 

“Is easy,” Suka said. “More difficult work later, yes?”

“Do this one thing, and you'll be first in line.”

Suka nodded, and headed outside. She counted up the caps, making sure all of them were in order, silently counting them off in whatever it was she spoke. The bodyguards were lined up near the Old Mormon Fort, waiting for people to come along so they could offer their services.

 

“How are we gonna play this one?”

“Pretend be innocent people, yes? Hide guns. Look easy.”

“Might wanna watch your wording there, Suka,” Cass said playfully. “I might be a hard drinker, but it ain't _that_ easy to make me do things.”

“You know what mean,” Suka said. “Let us hire idiot, yes?”

 

Suka and Cass headed up to the bodyguard, who immediately flashed a smile as he saw them.

“Hey there, little ladies,” he said. “If you need to cross Freeside, nobody will keep you safer than I will.”

“Is nice offer,” Suka said, turning up her own charm. “Is expensive?”

“Nope, not for you two,” he said. “For you, two hundred caps.”

“Is good day!” Suka said, smiling wide. “Have just two hundred here!”

 

Orris took the caps in his hand, examining them and putting them away once he was satisfied.

“Alright, good. Two things up front. In order to ensure your safety, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We'll be heading down the main street the whole way. No detours. You go off sightseeing, I find another customer.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Cass said.

“I'll keep a brisk pace, so try not to fall behind. Let's go.”

Suka and Cass fell in line behind him as they headed to the Strip. He boasted about not needing the Followers' medical services as they passed by the Old Mormon Fort, and pointed out other local landmarks along the way, commenting on each one. He also warned them about the Kings, about not letting them “scare” Suka and Cass.

 

He suddenly stopped just past the King's hangout, turning to them. “I don't like the look of some of these guys ahead. We're going another way around.”

“I thought you said no detours,” Cass said.

“And I told _you_ to follow my instructions to the letter,” he replied. “Unless you want to take these guys on yourself?”

“No, we follow,” Suka said. “Lead way, yes?”

“That's more like it,” Orris said, leading them down an alley.

 

As they rounded another corner, Orris suddenly ran ahead, pulling out his pistol. Suka and Cass saw four thugs just on the next street, and without warning Orris fired off three shots.

“Does he think that fools us?” Cass said.

“I no know,” Suka replied.

He taunted the thugs, and then turned around to face Suka and Cass, smiling. “See? Nothing to worry about. If you had hired one of those other hacks, you'd be up to your ass in lowlife right now.”

“Hey, Wyatt Earp,” Cass said, “you fired three shots. I count four bodies.”

“Oh, uh, noticed that, did you?” Orris said. “I keenly aimed one of the shots through the soft tissue of one of them to hit he man behind him.”

 

“Or, fake to keep business,” Suka said, folding her arms. “Why run ahead?”

“That's an interesting _theory_ you've got there,” Orris replied. “I'd suggest you keep it to yourself. Let's keep moving.”

They moved to the end of the street, which apparently ended their escort's services, where he threatened them to keep shut, with unspecified consequences. He ran off not long after, leaving Cass and Suka alone on the same street with the supposed bodies.

 

Suka waited for him to get out of sight, and then immediately turned around, heading back to the supposed ambush site. She crouched down near the bodies, studying them intensely. After a few minutes, she scoffed, standing back up.

“Idiots think we stupid,” she said. “Play dead, yes?”

As if to emphasize her point, she kicked one of them in the side, causing him to cry out in pain involuntarily.

“Agh! Fuck!” he shouted. “Fine! Okay! We're playing dead!”

“Goddammit, Lenny, you fucking idiot,” another one said, lying next to a car.

 

“Guess we got something to report to the King. I'm sure he'll love to hear it.”

“Yes. Let us go get better job, yes?”

 

* * *

 

 

Their new job now consisted of figuring out why some of the King's friends had been beaten up, and who was responsible. Suka didn't seem thrilled to be playing detective, but reasoned that it was just another step she had to take to get closer to Benny. The locals didn't know much, other than maybe that their attackers could have been NCR. One of them recalled hearing “lieutenant” (mistaking it for a name of Lou Tenant), but beyond that, clues were scarce.

 

Suka had gone back and forth, reporting to the King and now talking to one of the doctors, Julie, for more information when another one came up.

“Uh, excuse me, Julie,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt, I just need-”

“Is _private_ conversation, _chetyre-glaza_.” Suka said, perhaps a bit more harshly than she should have.

“Uh,” he said, clearly taken aback.

“Whoa, Jesus, Suka, calm down,” Cass said. “Sorry, she's a bit...”

“Callous,” the doctor said. “I understand. Sort of.”

 

“Bah,” Suka said, rolling her eyes. “You were of saying, doctor?”

The new arrival raised an eyebrow at her, wordlessly gesturing for Cass to follow him. She did so, heading into a tent nearby.

“If this is your way of asking for a quickie, you gotta work on the delivery,” Cass said.

“I-what? No, God no,” the doctor said, flustered. “Look. Your companion out there. Is she...you know?” He tapped his head with a finger.

“She's not stupid, if that's what you think,” Cass said. “Got shot in the head. Twice. We're finding the guy who did it.”

 

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well. Just brain damage, or?”

“I dunno,” Cass said, shrugging. “ _You're_ the doctor, aren't you?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly the one to sew someone up. I _could_ , but it's not really my thing. Wait, does she know who she's looking for?”

“Yeah,” Cass said, nodding. “Tracked the guy down all the way from Goodsprings to here.”

His eyes grew wide in surprise. He must not have expected that. “Wow. I...huh. Oh, sorry, I'm Arcade Gannon. I'm a doctor here. But I guess you knew that already.”

 

“Good to meet you. Cass.”

“I'm sorry,” he said again, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just – she got shot twice in the head and still knows who did it? And is still _walking?_ ”

“I guess she had a good doctor. You can ask her yourself if you want.”

“I...don't think she much likes me.”

“She's blunt, you idiot,” Cass said. “As long as you don't call her stupid, you're fine.”

 

 _“Cassidy,”_ Suka called out, sing-song. “Where go? Time leave!”

“Why does she talk like that?”

“I dunno, I guess she speaks another language or something, look, I gotta go, alright? See you around, doc.”

Cass left the tent, where Suka looked around again for her. Upon spotting Cass, Suka smiled, heading over to her.

“Come, we go, yes? Find trouble. Make trouble go away, yes?”

“Sure thing, Suka.”

 

“Wait, hold on!” Arcade shouted, heading over to them. Suka leaned around Cass, trying to see who it was.

“Oh, is _chetyre-glaza,_ ” she said. “Hello, _chetyre-glaza._ Want interrupt talk again?”

“No, no, I just...you got shot, right? Twice? In the head?”

Suka frowned, glaring at him. “Who told of this? You work with Benny?”

 

“Who's – look, nevermind, you lost your English, right? Reverted to Russian?”

For the first time since she had known her, Cass watched Suka's eyes glimmer with hope, smiling wide. “You know _russkiy?_ ”

“I know it's what you _speak_ ,” he said. “I can teach you English, get your skills back. As long as you stay here.”

 

Suka frowned, her eyes falling to the ground. She looked at random dirt spots, trying to decide whether this offer was worth it or not. The three stood there in the Old Mormon Fort for a while, before finally Suka looked back up at Arcade.

“ _Nyet,_ ” she said. “Kill Benny. Then other things. _Do svidaniya, chetrye-glaza._ ”

 

Suka turned, refusing to look at anyone as she sadly made her way out of the Fort, on her way to ask around about the missionaries that were spotted around. Cass silently followed her as Suka made her way through, eventually heading to the other side of town, providing a good spot to have a little chat with her.

 

“Alright, so what was that about? Why not take up that doc's offer?”

“Not want talk. Find Benny. Kill.”

“You keep saying that, Suka, but I don't know if I buy it.”

“ _Not care about chetyre-glaza offer,”_ Suka said, suddenly angry. “ _We. Find. Benny. Kill._ ”

 

Feeling she had sufficiently tabled the discussion for now, Suka surged forward, rattling off the password to the guards outside and heading into the NCR soup kitchen. There, she talked to the major in charge, weaseling information out of her, with the surprising twist that the NCR had actually sent an envoy to the King, but had returned beaten up. Suka thanked her for her time, in her usual manner of course, and set out to head back to the King.

 

“ _Grebanyy obkhod,_ ” Suka said, grumbling the entire way back.

“OK, hold on, I'm putting the brakes on this, Suka,” Cass said, causing the woman to stop and whip around, anger in her eyes.

“What issue now, Cassidy?” Suka demanded, furrowing her brow and expecting a fight.

“You've been so fucking pissed off at everything people ask you to do. Have you ever thought about _why_ you get that way? Why you're _really_ pissed off?”

“I _pissed off_ because not find Benny!” Suka shouted. “People say _Suka, sdelay eto, Suka, sdelay eto drugoye, Suka, sdelay dlya menya slyuchaynuyu veshch'!_ _**Ya. Done.**_ ”

 

“What do you think's gonna happen when you kill Benny, huh? Do you think anyone's gonna _stop_ asking you to do shit?”

“Will _make_ stop,” Suka said. “Benny problem. No Benny, no problem.”

“You're wrong, Suka,” Cass said, staring her down. “There's _always_ going to be problems. Mark my fucking words.”

Suka stared back, silently flipping her off as she turned around and headed to the King. The walk back was marked by silence. Cass didn't want to piss her off even more, and Suka made it clear she wasn't interested in talking.

 

Upon entering the King's hangout, the King's right-hand man approached them. “Hey, I hear that NCR soldier-lady told you some wild story about sending a messenger to the King. It's bullshit, and ain't nothing to bother the King with, you hear? More like they sent-”

“Shut up,” Suka said. “Want me no talk? Give money, _ublyudok_.”

“A bastard after my own heart,” he said. “Here, this oughta do it.”

Suka smiled. “ _Spasibo._ This help while I talk to King about NCR, yes?”

“Why you little...you know what, fuck it. You're lucky I got something to take care of.”

 

Without another word, he rushed out the door, slamming it as he went. Usually, Cass hated to see people get swindled out of their cash, but with this clown, it was well worth it. Suka grinned as she headed to the King, pocketing the cash.

 

“Hey there,” he said. “Find anything out yet?”

“NCR give meals to people,” Suka said.

“Huh,” the King said. “That ain't anything to get ruffled feathers over. Anything else?”

“No locals,” Cass chimed in. “NCR only.”

“Ah, that explains the _goons_ ,” the King said. “They're there to keep people like my friends away from the supplies. Well, I don't support that, no sir.”

“Major lady say she send person, talk to you,” Suka said.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. She said _what?”_

“Say man beaten. Never arrived.”

 

“Huh. That would explain why they're all riled at us. Seems we got a misunderstanding.”

“King,” a gang member said, rushing next to him. “We've got problems!”

“Lay it on me. What's the issue?”

“There's a shootout at the old train station,” the gang member said. “It's Pacer and some strangers.”

“What is that fool doin'?!” The King asked, turning to Suka. “I hate to do this, but can you defuse this situation? Tell them I'm willing to cooperate.”

 _“Da,_ Mr. King,” Suka said, smiling. “Will defuse, yes?”

 

Suka and Cass once again left the King's hangout, heading to the sound of gunfire near the train station. Cass could tell, despite sounding cheerful, Suka was again irritated at having to work for someone else.

 

Arriving at the shootout, they could see two dead Kings on the ground, with Pacer cowering behind a bus stop. She and Suka made their way to the NCR, who had taken up a position on an old tower, keeping covering fire rolling on Pacer's position.

 

“Hey! Keep your hands where we can see them!” a trooper shouted as they got closer. “Draw a weapon and we _will_ fire!”

Suka and Cass did as told, heading right to the major they had talked to earlier.

“This really isn't a good time,” she said, exasperated. “What do you want?”

“King wants help with relief,” Suka said.

“Like he helped the envoy we sent? No thanks.”

 

“That wasn't him,” Cass said. “He didn't even know an envoy had been sent.”

“Then he should watch his back,” the major said, narrowing her eyes. “We _know_ they made it to their headquarters. Still, if the King's willing to deal with us, perhaps we can work something out. I'll tell my men to stand down.”

 

The fire died down, and Pacer was allowed to leave unmolested. Upon their return, the King told Suka and Cass that he owed them a favor, in exchange for their hard work and skill in keeping the situation bloodless. It didn't matter to Suka. She could now use the King's influence to get herself and Cass passports into Vegas, which is exactly what she did. Suka moved faster than Cass had ever seen her move, almost like a rocket on her way to Mick and Ralph's for the passport, then again to the Strip. The Securitron let them through after examining the passports, and almost instantly Suka grinned wide as she looked upon the lights of the Strip.

 

“Well, howdy partner!” a familiar voice said, rolling towards them. “You've come a far piece, haven't you? Welcome to New Vegas!”

“Point at Tops, Victor,” Suka said, her spirit undampened. “Have score settle.”

“Sorry, rambler,” the robot said, sounding almost _apologetic._ “I know you're fixing to serve up some vengeance, but I'm gonna have to point you to the Lucky 38 first. Mr. House, the head honcho of New Vegas, is itching to meet your acquaintance. He'll help you serve up that cold dish of yours extra-chilly.”

“Tell House might stop. We see.”

“Well, don't you dawdle, little doggy!” Victor said, taunting her as Cass cringed. “Mr. House isn't someone you want to go about snubbing. He'll be waiting.”

 

Victor rolled off, now assuming the role of a regular Securitron. Suka and Cass watched him leave, cautious as the soft jazz music mixed with the sound of drunkards puking their guts out a few feet away from them.

“So, what's the plan, Suka? Still going right to Benny?”

“Find Benny first,” Suka said, “then talk Mr. House.


	5. Broken Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suka and Cass finally enter the Tops Casino, seeking Benny.

The pair entered The Tops, instantly spotted by a greeter who flashed a smile and pointed finger guns at them.

“Hey hey, baby doll,” he said. “Welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino! Gonna have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carrying.”

“From _cold dead hands,_ ” Suka growled. “Where Benny?”

“Dunno what you want with Benny, but them's the breaks, kid. You want in, _hand over the guns._ ”

“Have better idea, yes?” Suka threatened. “How about kill you and bring guns anyway, yes?”

“Alright, let's cool down here,” Cass said, defusing the situation by standing in between Suka and the greeter. “We'll hand over our guns, right, Suka?”

 

Suka growled, but the itchy trigger fingers on the nearby casino employees seemed to make her reconsider. “ _Fine,”_ she said, unslinging her rifle and handing it over. “No scratch, yes? If find scratch, will _kill for real.”_

“Don't worry baby doll,” the greeter said, gingerly taking the rifle. “Uh, the pistol too, hotshot? Can't be going all Wild West in here now.”

Suka frowned and unholstered her pistol and tossed it over as well, as Cass handed over her shotgun.

 

“There we go,” the greeter said, storing the weapons away. “Smooth and easy, just the way I like it. Don't worry, they'll be safe as kittens until you're ready to leave.”

Suka glared at the greeter, ignoring him and moving to the main atrium of the casino. She muttered quietly to herself in Russian, having spotted Benny and no less than four of his bodyguards.

“That's him, I suppose,” Cass observed.

 _“_ _Da,"_ Suka said. “Wish had rifle. Would kill where stand.”

“And start a firefight in one of the only decent buildings left standing? Yeah, not a good plan, Suka.”

 

Suka grumbled to herself again, practically pacing on the floor as she tried to figure out what to do. Cass took the time to assess the situation for herself. There was no way they they could start a fight with five armed men on their own turf. Suka didn't even have anything, just her bare fists against what looked like 9mm and 10mm pistols. Cass had a machete, but she didn't much like those odds. She cringed internally as she realized the stealth pun she had just made. _Really, Cass?_ _ **Odds**_ _in a_ _ **casino?**_

 

But, hey, maybe they could make this work. Suka had spent so much time traveling to get here. Why not take that same time to plan this out a little better? Cass wasn't psychic, but she was pretty sure Suka's plan boiled down to “pull the trigger until it goes click.” Probably what she would do in her situation, but still not the best of plans.

 

“Hey, Suka,” Cass said, taking a look around. “I got an idea.”

“Is kill Benny, yes? Already know.”

“With what gun, Suka? You wanna take on all of those high-class losers with your fists?”

“If have to,” Suka said, grinding her fists against one another, “will do, yes.”

“OK, no, I have a better idea. You go see Mr. House -”

“ _Not want see House,”_ Suka declared, staring at Cass like she had lost her mind.

 _“And I'll stay here and watch Benny,”_ Cass finished. “If he starts making a move to run away, I'll wreck his legs so you can pop two in _his_ head. Alright?”

 

“No sense,” Suka said, shaking her head. “Why go see House? Want kill Benny.”

“Maybe House can help us kill this fuck,” Cass said. “He's got connections here, right?”

Suka muttered something, before begrudgingly nodding. “Fine. Will go see House. Not like.”

“Don't worry, Suka, if he makes a move, I'm all over him.”

The courier left, snatching back her weapons from the greeter as she left. Meanwhile, Cass found herself a nice, comfortable chair to sit in, ordering a glass of whiskey to help her pass the time. Benny didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.

 

* * *

 

 

Suka wasn't gone for any longer than half an hour, during which Benny hadn't moved much beyond schmoozing with a few gamblers here and there. Aside from being a giant prick in the corner, Benny barely moved at all. Suka came directly to Cass, grabbing her arm and leading her to the front desk again.

“Uh, mind telling me what's going on, Suka?” Cass said as she was dragged away from her whiskey.

“Have new plan.”

“Do I get to _know_ the plan before we get there?”

 

Before Cass could contemplate any further, though, they had already appeared in front of the desk, and Suka was talking to one of the other greeters, standing by a phone and a massive book.

“Hello, _baby_ , and welcome to the Tops!” he said, grinning. “What can I do for you?”

“Should know thing about Benny,” Suka said, keeping her voice low and neutral.

“Really?” he asked, his grin turning from charming to full of snark. “Got something to say about the big boss, huh? Well, why don't you say it to his _face_ instead of yapping to me?”

“Benny try kill me and take Chip. Have proof.”

 

“Whoa, hey now, kid,” he said, becoming skeptical. “That's some kind of serious charge you're dropping. You want to be _real careful_ about what you say next.”

Suka fished a cigarette butt out of her pocket, tossing it at him. “Benny leave these at grave he bury me in, yes? And here. Benny lighter. Left in Boulder City.”

“Huh. Yeah, these are Benny's alright. His brand, ain't too common, and that's his lighter, yeah...shit. Tell you what, I think you're on to something. I can't back your play, but I can keep the Chairmen off your back.”

“How do?”

“I'll tell the doorman you're cool to pack heat inside,” he said. “Trust me, you're gonna need it. Still gonna have to deal with his goon squad, though, if you got more proof I can help you with that.”

 

“Give key Benny suite,” Suka said. “Ambush there, yes?”

“Huh?”

“Okay, brainiac,” Cass said, chiming in. “Give us the key to Benny's suite. We'll ambush him there. No scene out here on the floor, no mess on these nice carpets. Got it?”

“Wait, hold on, ambush? Like, kill him? I dunno, can't you just...search it or something? So we can get House to arrest him?”

“ _No understand, idiot,”_ Suka growled. “Need take out Benny _now,_ yes? Is dangerous, yes?”

“Take him out? Oh Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. “Alright, fine, just do it, okay? If you think that's the best way to deal with this. I'll send him up there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

 

He directed them to where the elevators were, warning them that they'd still need to deal with Benny's bodyguards but that would be it. No other Chairmen would get involved, so he claimed. Cass and Suka soon both got their weapons back, and set about heading up to Benny's room to prepare the ambush.

 

* * *

 

 

Benny's suite was as Cass expected – overcompensating for a _lot_ of things. It stank of cheap cigarettes and crappy alcohol, the whiskey was low-class, and the furniture was terrible, even by what she assumed was pre-War standards. Suka had done what any reasonable murder-driven courier would do, and had taken a position by the door, and cleaned her gun. Each time she slammed the bolt closed with such an intensity, she wondered how Suka hadn't broken it by now.

 

The minutes went by fast. Suka stared at the door, rifle in hand, as she waited. Suddenly, footsteps, and Benny laughing, reacting to an apparent joke from one of his bodyguards. The sound of a key being slid into the lock, and then a solid click as it was unlocked. Benny opened the door, still blissfully unaware of what was going on.

 

Suka happily waved to Benny as he walked in the room, a smirk on her face as she pulled the trigger. Somehow, it looked like Benny was faster, and he dodged the shot, shouting various curses as he scampered away. Suka immediately gave chase, shouting as she ran after him, “ _Vernis' syuda, Benni! Ya prosto khochu tebya ubit'!”_

Cass heard Benny return fire as she followed Suka out. She had never noticed it before, but Suka's rifle had hidden a pike-style bayonet this entire time, an attachment Suka had seen fit to fix forward, now extra lethal.

“Don't run,” she taunted as she fired off another shot. “Is just _**bullet!”**_

 

Cass watched Benny run around a corner, prompting Suka to mutter to herself in Russian as she ran forward. Two of Benny's thugs appeared, and even though they tried hard to hit Suka, their shots were wide in panic as she charged. Suka's battle cry mixed with the bullets, and then with the screams as she drove her bayonet into their chests. She stood above the dead bodies, panting heavily as she looked for Benny again. The crying of one of the thugs took her attention away for a second, and she stabbed him in the head with her bayonet, silencing him forever.

_“Kuda on delsya?! Gde Benni?”_

 

More shots rang out from around the corner. Was Benny stupid? The elevators were the other way. He had nowhere to go.

“Round the corner, Suka!” Cass called out, heading out to engage Benny. More shots.

Suka whipped around, spotting Benny and getting an extra murderous glint in her eye. _“UUUUURRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”_ Suka screamed, charging down the hall with her bayonet ready to kill.

“Oh, holy fuck!” Benny shouted, trying to land shots and failing spectacularly. If it wasn't a fight for his life, this would almost be hilarious, really.

Cass leaned around to see the final moments of Benny's life, as a bayonet was driven into his chest, once, then twice, then six more times as he fell to the floor, gasping for air as he bled out. His shitty suit turned from black and white to black and red, and he dropped his pistol.

 

Suka didn't waste any time. She immediately began searching Benny's pockets, looking for the Platinum Chip, no doubt. Having found it, she put it in a pocket of her own and stood up.

“Feeling better now, Suka?”

“Yes,” Suka said. “Come. Benny hide secrets. Detectives, yes?”

The pair walked past the dead bodies back to Benny's suite, examining the room and finding an add-on installed, hiding a Securitron that was clearly different from the ones out on the Strip. Instead of a gruff policeman's face, it had a goofy-looking smile on its screen, guarding a computer nearby.

 

“Hey! Hi there!” it said. “Good to meet you! What can I do for you today?”

“What place?” Suka asked, looking around.

“This is Benny's workshop! When the Tops got renovated, he had this half of the floor blocked off for his own use. I guess you could say it's my entire world! I don't think I've ever left this room! But that's okay – I'm not complaining!”

Suka began to ignore the robot, looking around for things to scavenge or just plain steal for her own use. Cass shook her head, looking at the robot. “What are you doing here?”

“Good question! My function is to monitor Mr. House's data network and decode his encrypted transmissions! Allow me to introduce myself! I'm a PDQ-88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes-Man!”

 

“Dumb name,” Suka said. “Why call Yes Man?”

“It's what Benny always called me. Probably because I'm programmed to be so helpful!”

“Have seen Chip before, yes?” Suka said, holding it up for him now that she had exhausted all options for thievery.

“Sure! Benny had me look at it a bunch of times! It's a data storage device, kind of like a holotape, but a lot more advanced! As for what's on it, well...some of Mr. Houses's transmissions made it sound like it could upgrade his defenses somehow!”

 

“What was Benny planning to do with this thing?” Cass asked, curious.

“Oh, he wanted to kill Mr. House and use the Platinum Chip to copy my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38 mainframe! That would give me control over all of Mr. House's defenses, most prominently his Securitrons! And then I guess I just do what I'm told!”

Cass and Suka both raised their eyebrows in disbelief at how... _easily_ this information was coming to them. They exchanged a look – was it trying to play them?

“You're...very forthcoming with that,” Cass said, folding her arms.

“I was programmed to be helpful and answer any questions I was asked. I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I answer questions _for!_ ” After a few seconds, the robot added, “...that was probably pretty dumb, huh?”

 

“Whatever,” Suka said, yawning. “Need sleep, yes? Find hotel, yes?”

“Betcha these guys will comp us a suite, Suka, given we just took out their top man and all.”

“ _Da,_ will threaten if not help, yes? Stupid men.”

 

* * *

 

Like Cass had predicted, the casino owners had given them a suite, free of charge, and with no questions asked about their battle. Thankfully, Suka didn't need to resort to threats to secure the room. Their room had two large beds, set side-by-side with about a three-foot gap between them, and drinks had been taken up to their room courtesy of the staff. Naturally, Cass had secured herself a bottle of whiskey, the finest New Vegas could find. It was a pre-war brand, no doubt securely locked away in the confines of the building's basement, just waiting for her to come along. How they hadn't already exhausted the stores of pre-war alcohol astounded Cass, really.

 

It was nice, having an actual bed, a relatively clean room, and half-decent water for once. Killing Vegas' high-rollers seemed to have an upside, even if that upside seemed to be a one-time deal. In the five days she had known Suka, Cass felt like the strange courier practically come to know her like the back of her hand. Mystery was only fun for so long, and it'd help to know more about this bizarre woman Cass had thrown her lot in with.

 

“Well, you know a lot about me,” Cass said, swirling a whiskey in her hand. “But I don't know a whole lot about _you,_ Suka. Where'd you come from?”

“Vault,” Suka replied, meticulously cleaning her rifle.

After waiting for her to explain further, Cass had to prod. “Is that it?”

“ _Da,_ ” she said, sliding the bolt back in place.

“Do you mind if I ask if you got any family?”

“I lived in Vault,” Suka said, frowning. “Is all you need to know.”

 

Cass sighed, resting her glass on the nearby nightstand. “Look, you know damn near everything about me. You're a fucking _ghost_ , Suka. You want me to stay, I want to know more.”

Suka said nothing, standing up and placing her rifle in the corner, near her bed. By now, she had taken off her combat armor, trading it for a red-and-white striped undershirt. Her shirt's low collar showed an inscription near the back of her neck as she moved to secure her rifle. Cass couldn't make it out, partially because it was in Russian, but also because the ends were covered by the shirt.

“What do your tattoos mean?” Cass probed. “Had 'em long?”

Suka paused, slowly turning around to face Cass with a frown on her face and mingled sadness and exasperation in her eyes. “Have many tattoos. Many meanings, yes?” Suka looked at her own arms, as if reliving every needle that had gone into her skin. “Maybe talk one day. Not today.”

 

Cass looked at Suka's arms as well. They were intricate, that was for sure. No fewer than two dozen skulls adorned her arms, along with inscriptions Cass couldn't read and countless crosses. Not like the ones the Legion used, but different. These had another bar on them, lower and angled for some reason. All of this made sense to Suka, no doubt, but to anyone else the meaning was lost. Cass secretly wondered if she ever would be able to see if Suka's sleeves went farther, but maybe that was the whiskey talking. Maybe it was time for another approach.

 

“If you don't mind me asking,” Cass said. “What's your plan now?”

Suka smirked for a split second, no doubt having flashbacks to when she had asked Cass the same thing at the Mojave outpost. “Not know. Finish job, yes? Then decide.”

“What's House offering you for that chip?”

“ _Tysyacha,_ ” Suka said.

“Yeah...” Cass muttered, “you, uh, you wanna write that out for me?”

 

Suka nodded, writing out a thousand on a spare piece of paper. A thousand caps wasn't exactly chump change. Could get a woman a lot of places, really.

“Lotta caps,” Cass noted. “What're you gonna do with it all?”

Suka shrugged. “Finish job, then decide, yes?”

Cass yawned, nodding in agreement. Running around Freeside and fighting in the halls of The Tops had drained Cass, and she felt herself slowly drifting away to sleep as Suka began turning off lights.

 

* * *

 

 

Cassidy had finally fallen asleep. Good. Suka could have a minute alone with that stupid robot Benny had. This wouldn't be the first time Suka had to leave a room quietly, and it definitely wouldn't be the last, either. She crept out of bed carefully, putting on a half-decent shirt to cover her arms, carrying her shoes with her as she left the suite.

 

Now clear of the room, Suka could put her boots on, and began making the trek back to Benny's suite. She had clasped her hands behind her, moving with a purpose she hadn't had in a long while. Like she expected, that damned robot was still sitting in this cold, dark room, its face the only light around.

 

 _“_ _Hey there!”_ it said in English, rolling back and forth to maintain balance. _“You're back! What can I help you with?”_

“Do you speak Russian, robot?” Suka asked. She couldn't bother with English right now. Too clumsy.

“Sure thing! All Securitrons are equipped with a full suite of translation software for all international visitors! Though, I don't think we've had many of _those_ lately!”

Suka pulled out the Chip, holding it in front of the robot. “What do I need to do to use this to take over New Vegas?”


	6. Scavenger Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass, with Suka's help, checks on another one of her caravans and discovers an ugly conspiracy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suka has artwork now, done by the very patient Justin Stebbins of Saber-Scorpion's Lair! Below is the commission I got of her, so y'all can put a face to the Russian courier.
> 
> https://i.imgur.com/agdXEbx.jpg

It had been a long, _long_ time since Cass had slept in a real, honest-to-God bed. She never wanted to leave it, waking up to the sound of Suka rummaging around, dressing for the day. Like usual, she had outfitted herself in her combat gear. Gone, or merely just hidden, was the red-and-white striped undershirt she wore last night, replaced by a khaki long-sleeved shirt she had rolled up halfway to reveal her tattoos. Her torn jeans had probably seen her through more battles than Suka cared to talk about, complemented by black boots that had seen better days.

 

“Ah, awake,” Suka said, slinging her rifle over her should. “Good. We move, yes?”

“Not even a minute's rest, huh?” Cass muttered, getting out of bed and putting her signature hat on.

“No time. Must work, yes?”

Something was different about Suka today. Cass could tell – last night, she was wandering, almost listless without somebody to kill. She seemed full of purpose now. Cass wondered what had changed overnight. Maybe the night of sleep had given her a new motivation that Cass wouldn't get to know yet. Either way, Suka held up her end of the bargain. They were heading out to another one of Cass's wrecked caravans after getting some breakfast, complements of the Tops once again. Suka was oddly quiet this morning, as well. _She's usually quiet anyway,_ Cass thought, _but this is new._ Suka usually at least grumbled to herself about something in Russian, commented on the situation around them, but today? She was calm and reserved, two things Cass wasn't used to from the courier.

 

And that scared her.

 

* * *

 

 

Something had always bothered Cass, ever since she had begun traveling with the odd Russian all the way back at that outpost. She had never realized it until now, but Suka had gone out of her way to find Cass, _recruit_ her. It wasn't obvious then, but now? Cass couldn't help but think about it. She had come to her all that time ago with an offer from Alice McLafferty in her hand, ready to negotiate, and the second Suka had secured the deal, she had immediately set upon her mission to kill Benny. Suka never had a purpose beyond getting revenge on the man who had shot her.

 

So why the fuck had she gone all the way to the outskirts of New Vegas, just to turn around and go find Cass? Suka had always known who she was looking for, even if she didn't know his name. Why would she get so close to her goal, only to abandon it for some task she could have left for later? It didn't make any sense to Cass.

 

Benny hadn't even been in the ground for more than a few hours when Cass decided to confront her about it. They were on their way to Cass's other caravan, as Suka had always promised. “ _Kill Benny, then caravan,”_ Suka had said.

“Hey, Suka,” Cass said. “Stop a minute.”

Suka paused, curiosity written on her face as she turned to face Cass. “Yes? What want talk?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

Suka's face twisted in confusion, and she shrugged. “What you mean? I no lie, Cassidy.”

 

“Suka, I'm not an idiot,” Cass said, folding her arms. “When we started traveling together, you told me you were looking for Benny, right?”

“I not know name then,” Suka protested.

“Doesn't matter. You knew _who_ you were looking for. You had the face. _That's_ what matters. Do I have that right?”

“ _Da,_ ” Suka conceded, uncertainty crossing her face now.

“You came to me in that bar with an offer from Alice McLafferty. Why did you go all the way to the Crimson Caravan Company, the _same path_ we took, without asking anyone on the way about who shot you like you and I did? Why did you go all the way to the outskirts of New Vegas, ten minutes away from Benny, without looking for him? Why go _all that fucking way,_ just to turn around to come get me?”

 

Suka drew a sharp breath, slightly tilting her head up in an attempt to make herself look more confident. It wasn't working – Cass could tell.

“I no lie,” Suka said. “Have job from Alicia woman before, yes? Before shot. Forget am courier, Cassidy? Have many jobs. Chip job was not only. _Bagrovyy karavan_ was of...how you say, _client,_ yes?”

“Why should I believe you, Suka?”

“Why _no_ believe?” Suka replied. “What do make Cassidy not trust?”

“You can't hide who you are forever, Suka,” Cass said, frowning. “I've seen your type before. You're a lying, cheating, manipulative bitch, and _nothing_ about that will change.”

Suka's expression changed from reserved concern to full rage, as she got close to Cass's face, baring her teeth almost like an animal as she growled. “ _Nablyudayte za svoim rtom, ili ya mogu szhech' vas, kak vashi karavany._ ”

“Did you just threaten me?”

_“_ Is second time you call me liar,” Suka said, frowning. “I no lie. Not to friends.”

 

“I still haven't heard a reason as to why I should trust you,” Cass reminded her.

“Want find truth about caravan?” Suka shot back. “Or want go West? _Ya_ think you no like travel with me, Cassidy. What truth?”

“Why haven't you delivered that chip to House yet?”

Suka paused, unconsciously turning the small chip over in her pocket as she avoided Cass's intense gaze. “Not have time yet, yes?”

“If what I hear is true, he doesn't need to sleep, Suka. He doesn't care what time it is when you get the chip to him. What happened to those thousand caps he promised you?”

 

Suka slowly let out her breath, closing her eyes as she withdrew her hand from the pocket, unslinging her rifle and readying it. Not against Cass, thankfully. “Not know if right idea.”

“Then what the _fuck_ happened to the 'I finish job' spiel you gave me yesterday?”

“ _Things. Change._ ” Suka growled, starting to move on with – or without – Cass. “Come. We go caravan, yes?”

Cass shook her head, feeling like grumbling some choice words herself. This entire trip was quickly becoming frustrating. It didn't help when some suit came walking over to them.

 

“What want?” Suka asked, still seething from her conversation with Cass.

The man shoved a trinket in her hand, speaking quickly as he did so. “The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you. He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark.” He smiled as Suka looked over the object in her hand. “Any crimes you may have committed against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time. My lord requires your presence at his camp at Fortification Hill. This Mark will guarantee your safe passage through our lands.”

 

Suka narrowed her eyes, staring this strange man down. It suddenly struck Cass – she had seen this clown before. He was the same motherfucker that burned Nipton, just without a wolf's pelt on his head. Both her hand and Suka's hand hovered over their weapons. “If trap,” Suka warned, “will _kill_ all.”

“If the mighty Caesar wanted you dead, you would be dead already. Seek Caesar by way of Cottonwood Cove, south of Nelson. The Cursor Lucullus will be waiting.”

Even as Suka whipped out her pistol and took aim, the man walked away calmly. It was almost as if he was ignorant to the anger he had just set off in Suka. Suka held the pistol up, but after several moments, lowered it. Apparently he wasn't worth the bullets today.

 

“ _Mudak,”_ Suka said, spitting on the ground where he stood.

“How'd this guy know where to find us?”

“Not know. Not care. Go caravan, yes?”

“Fine by me. Anything to get away from that creep.”

 

The trek to the caravan was marked with silence. Since they had left so early, the heat wasn't too bad yet. Still, Cass could smell the rotting Brahmin before she saw it. How long had it been out here like this? It was impossible to tell. They moved carefully – even with the place as it was, Cazadors were lurking nearby. Neither of them wanted to be stung by those bastards today.

 

Cass knelt down to examine the wreckage more closely. Same story as last time. “More energy weapons hit this caravan,” she announced. “Place has been picked clean. This is Brotherhood levels of murder. But they don't do things like that. This was done with a _purpose._ ”

Suka had begun rummaging around as well, examining the piles of ashes and destroyed wagons. She pulled out a map of some kind, handing it over to Cass wordlessly. It was a route to West Vegas, with the location they were at marked, as well as another. But it didn't make sense – it was the middle of nowhere.

“None of this makes any fucking sense,” Cass muttered as Suka picked up a plasma rifle. That was odd, too.

“Want go look?” Suka asked, tossing the empty and worthless plasma rifle away.

“Yeah. I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

* * *

 

 

The journey to the last caravan couldn't be over soon enough. Cass could feel the tension between herself and Suka wasn't quite over, and by opening up that can of worms, maybe she had done more damage than she wanted to. Maybe Suka would decide at the end of all this, that she'd be done traveling with Cass. And then what? What would Cass do next? Maybe it depended on if her bad feelings from the last caravan proved to be right here.

 

They came upon a broken wall, massive chunks of concrete with bits of steel poking out of it like rogue hairs on a bald man. In a ditch lay the final caravan, rotting and abandoned like all the others. Suka didn't need any words. She knew to look for something, _anything._ Cass had already begun poking around. She had never herd about this one being attacked, and there were signs of a camp being made here. They were clearly lying in wait for them.

 

She saw everything she needed when she crested the ditch to look at the camp. A Crimson Caravan guard and a Van Graff thug were lying on the ground, dead, their bodies picked at by animals. They had no reason to be out here, not this far away from Vegas, and certainly not attacking her goddamn caravans.

 

It made her blood boil, and it didn't take a fool to put the pieces together. “I've seen enough,” she said as Suka collected loose bits of ammo. “Crimson Caravan and the Van Graffs, they were behind burning these caravans, and they're going to answer for them.”

“What do, Cassidy?”

“I'm going to get some extra ammo, a few bottles of whiskey, and show them how Cassidys settle accounts.”

Suka nodded, maintaining a neutral look on her face. “Let us do, then.”

Cass looked back at the courier, surprised she so easily jumped into this head-first. “Really? After all I said and did to you?”

 

“You help with Benny, yes?” Suka asked, regarding Cass with serious, almost determined eyes. “I help you. We friends, yes?”

Cass scoffed, wondering how the fuck Suka could still consider her a “friend,” especially in light of their little “chat” outside the Strip today. Maybe it was just another tick of Suka's that Cass would never understand. Maybe she had done something right. Who knew, Cass sure as hell didn't.

“Alright then. I don't care which one we deal with first, Gloria Van Graff or Alice McLafferty, but either way, we'll need a lot of bullets. Maybe a little luck too. Either way, I want to make that Van Graff bitch eat her hair.”

 

Suka nodded again, heading back towards Vegas and Freeside. “Should prepare, yes? Will not easy make Van Graff bitch eat hair, yes?”

“Yeah. What's your idea?”

“How good fighter is Cassidy?”

“I'd say pretty damn good,” Cass replied. “If it's a bar fight.”

 

“Have idea, then,” Suka said. “We train. Take on fights, yes?”

“Put myself in harms way to figure out how to survive in a firefight. Great plan, Suka.”

“Work for me,” Suka said, shrugging. “Will work for Cassidy, yes?”

Cass shook her head, wondering if she had any choice in the matter. “Alright, lead the way. Again.”

 

* * *

 

 

Their travels for work, and potential shootouts, took them to North Vegas, where a local apparently wanted them to clear out some greasers from the underground. It didn't sound too bad, until you realized it was dark as hell, cramped, and smelled like fifteen other things had died here a week ago. Suka led the way with her rifle up, the bayonet fixed just in case of close encounters. She had told Cass, in her usual way of course, to study her every movement closely, and if shooting started, to focus on her pulse. If worse came to worse, she would never be far away.

 

The winding, twisting corridors led to a small fire in a barrel, where the so-called “greasers” hung out, warming their hands. One of them watched Cass and Suka walk in, weapons drawn, and looked them up and down warily. “What the hell are _you_ lookin' at, punk?”

“Hear cause trouble,” Suka said.

“Yeah? Well fuck off.”

Suka smiled. “Was hope be stupid,” she said.

 

Immediately, Suka drove her bayonet into the greaser's chest, and he let out a disgusting gurgling as he stared back in shock. For good measure, Suka fired a single shot to dislodge her bayonet, working the bolt and whipping around to block one of the greasers from smacking her with a pool cue. Cass covered Suka as she dealt with the snooker player, blasting one of the surprised ones with her shotgun. The last one grabbed a nearby pistol, firing wildly but missing. Cass heard another shot ring out from Suka's rifle, and then watched her charge the fourth shooter, stabbing him with deadly efficiency.

 

Around them, the moans of the dead and dying echoed throughout the room, and a few people gathered in the doorways, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on.

“Murderer!” somebody screamed.

Suka took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders as she took a rag out of her pocket, wiping down her bayonet. She looked at the man who had screamed at her, and rolled her eyes as she walked away. “Let us go,” she said. “Job done.”

 

On their way back topside, Suka stopped and flashed another smile at Cass. “Fight was fun, yes?”

“I don't know if fighting a group of hardcore pool players is really _fun_ , but sure.”

“Ah, will find fun,” Suka said, casually dismissing Cass's reluctance with a wave of her hand. “Take time, yes?”

Once they had returned to the surface, and could finally breathe fresh air again, the “employer” met them, wondering if they had done what he asked them to do.

“ _Da_ ,” Suka said, brushing dirt off of her pants. “Job done. What next?”

“Great work,” he said. “Gotta make sure this place doesn't eat itself from the inside. I actually may need a gun with a brain for this one.”

He told them to talk to a Ms. Hostetler, who was concerned her daughter was making the wrong kinds of friends. “The kind that slit your throat in the dark,” he said. Sob stories weren't anything new to Cass. Sounded like another kid who lost their way.

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Hostetler was hostile upon meeting them, unsurprisingly. Once Suka had convinced her that she was here to help, her attitude relaxed visibly, and she curtly told them that he should really mind his own business. That said, she did want them to find out as much about her daughter's new “friends” as possible, and offered a compensation for their time.

 

It was sounding almost like a repeat of when they were trying to find Benny, except this time it was Cass getting impatient with the affair. The irony wasn't lost on her, or on Suka. Every minute of preparation, Cass reasoned, meant she'd be that much better when she finally got to stare Alice in the eyes and watch the life escape from them. Then it'd be worth it.

 

Asking around North Vegas led them to a crumbling building, derisively known as The Gray. It wasn't hard to see why. It was literally gray, depressing, and looked like it was in danger of collapsing at any second. Who in their right mind would stay here? Suka looked around – it didn't look like the people they were looking for were here. Thugs stood outside certain rooms. Suka shrugged, heading towards one.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked, hand hovering over his pistol.

“Want talk Alice.”

“She ain't here. What the fuck you wanna talk to her for?”

“ _Ya_ say again, yes? _Want. Talk. Alice._ ”

“Listen here, _bitch_ , this is _our turf_. Maybe she ain't here. Maybe she don't wanna talk to you. Don't you dare go snooping around, or I'll fucking kill you.”

 

Suka frowned, staring him down with rage-filled eyes. “ _Ya_ no like tone.”

“So what? I don't give a shit what you like. Go cry to your mama.”

Suka said nothing, but stepped back and kept her eyes on him. The thug scoffed, shaking his head and lowering his gun. Just as he did, Suka pulled out her rifle and planted a round right in his temple. He fell to the floor, blood painting the wall behind him. Suka shouted at Cass to cover her as she looked through his person, no doubt looking for a key. Another thug rounded the corner, shotgun in hand. Cass got the first shot off, killing him and sending his corpse onto the wall be stood before.

 

“Gotta work fast, Suka,” she said, hastily reloading. “Lotta eyes up in here.”

“ _Da, da,”_ Suka muttered. “Hah! Found.”

Suka shoved the key into the lock, and opened the door. Once again, Cass covered her as Suka ransacked the room, looking for something of importance. Finally, she emerged from the room clutching a note.

“Read,” Suka said, shoving the note in Cass's hands. She obliged, relaying the note's information. It was all a trick for Alice, it seemed. Whoever she was hanging with just wanted to steal money from her, due to her father's connections in the Crimson Caravan. Wouldn't be the worst thing, but they'd be killing her family. That was something Cass didn't want to see happen. It made these two-time crooks no better than fiends or raiders.

 

Suka nodded, folding the note and putting it away in a pocket. As they were about to leave, a ghoul stood in front of them, looking at them with a wary eye.

“What're you lookin' at? Answer me, I get trigger happy real quick.”

“Relax,” Cass said. “We were just leaving.”

“Hold on. I've never seen your face around here before. What do you really want?”

“Nothing,” Suka said. _“Do svidaniya.”_

“Leaving so soon?” he asked. “And here I thought we'd have time for a little chat.”

 

Suka bumped him as she passed by, staring him down. Cass made sure to leave as quickly as possible as well – she didn't think Suka had closed the door. With the blood on the walls and two dead guards, even a moron could piece together what had happened. And if that guy was the same one whose room they had just broken into, there'd be hell to pay, no doubt.

 

It was nearly nightfall by the time they had made it to Ms. Hostetler's house, intent to inform her of what was going on. Instead, they were confronted by who Cass assumed to be Alice.

 

And she had a loaded gun in her hand.

 

“Back off!” she said, leveling the pistol at them. “I know how to use this gun, and I'm not afraid to shoot you if you try anything!”

“Alright,” Cass said, raising her hands as Suka did the same.

“I've put up with their shit long enough!” Alice continued, despite not being asked. “No more! I'll...I'll kill them if they get in my way!”

“We're not here to hurt you,” Cass explained, tying to calm things down.

“Then what the hell _do_ you want?! Don't try anything, I mean it!”

 

“Let's start with what's going on here,” Cass said.

“It's payback time, that's what! They've got no right to screw me over!”

“Alice, friends use you get money,” Suka said. “You know, yes?”

“What are you talking about? Andy wants to help me leave this hole...doesn't he?”

 

Suka shook her head, and slowly took out the note from her pocket. “Look. _Ya_ find in room.”

“That _son of a bitch!_ ” Alice yelled as she read the note. “Fuck it! I'll take the money and kill him too!”

“Okay, goddammit, no, you idiot,” Cass said. “How's this gonna play out? Do you even _have_ the money?”

“She's guarding it, I know she is! She locked the door, like that'll stop me!”

 

“OK,” Suka said, folding her arm. “Go ahead. We wait.”

“Alright, yeah,” Alice said. “I'll shoot the lock off the door, and then...ah dammit. I can't do it,” she said weakly. “She deserves it, and worse, but I can't hurt my own mom.”

Cass held out a hand to Alice, making sure to go as slow as possible. “Give me the gun, Alice.”

Alice's eyes darted between the door and Cass for a few moments, before she hastily tossed the gun away. “Here. Take it. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“If it were me?” Cass asked. “I'd stay. Try and reconcile.” She could see Suka roll her eyes at the mere mention of this solution.

“Maybe you're right...but what will they think? How can I face them again? Though...I guess I deserve it.”

 

Suka and Cass didn't need to stick around for the rest of this. Ms. Hostetler paid Suka two hundred caps for her work, and the pair walked off into the night no worse for wear. This was honestly the first time Cass could think of that somebody had directly threatened Suka, and she hadn't responded by shooting them in the face or driving a bayonet into their chest. Was this a result of what had happened over the night, or was it signifying an actual change in her? Cass wasn't sure she would ever know.


	7. Devil's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suka continues to train Cass for the upcoming fight with Gloria Van Graff and Alice McLafferty, while picking up some bounties for the NCR along the way. The pair head to Jacobstown.

Another week of picking fights, and nearly losing a handful of them, had led Cass and Suka to Camp McCarran. Today, they were picking up a handful of bounties, Fiends that the NCR wanted dead for one reason or another. Major Dhatri, the man in charge of handing out bounties and ensuring they were properly collected, had been going over the rules for claiming a bounty. Standard NCR protocol – ensure the head wasn't destroyed, make sure he knew which one they were going after, the works. There'd be a reduced, or even no, payout if he couldn't verify who they had killed.

 

Cass had just now started paying attention again as the major ended his list of wanted Fiend heads.

“… and Cook-Cook. Rapist. Pyromania-”

“Stop,” Suka said, holding up a hand. “Not need hear more. Will kill… what is name? _Cyuk-cyuk?_ ”

“Cook-Cook,” Major Dhatri corrected. “Look, you gotta know, he raped one of my-”

_“Not care. Will kill,”_ Suka growled, immediately turning around with her rifle in hand.

Major Dhatri watched Suka walk away, obviously confused but ultimately shrugging.

 

Cass followed Suka out, unsure where they were really heading, but trusting that Suka knew what to do. Suka muttered to herself as they walked away from Camp McCarran, looking over the map on her Pip-Boy as she walked.

“Only place Cook-Cook can be,” she said after a while. “Attacks NCR travel, yes? Must be close.”

“If you don't mind, Suka, everything alright there?”

“Not know what talk about. Am fine.”

“That major said 'rape' and you froze up. I ain't _never_ seen that from you.”

 

Suka slowed down, stopping entirely next to a ruined building. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she did so. She opened her eyes once more, staring at the sky wistfully.

“Not talk,” Suka said, taking her rifle off her back and gripping it in her hands tightly. “Will kill Cook-Cook.”

Cass could take a hint. This wasn't something Suka wanted to talk about. Why, Cass didn't really know, and didn't want to speculate either. It was rough living out in the Mojave, especially if you're a courier like Suka was. Still, she seemed pretty tough.

 

Maybe it was all just a facade.

 

* * *

 

 

Cass could smell the camp before they saw it. Burnt Brahmin flesh and hide was hardly the most pleasant smell even under the best circumstances, but knowing a flamethrower had done it didn't help. The only path Cass and Suka saw was between two wrecked buildings, with an equally demolished building serving as the main camp for Cook-Cook. Suka stayed low, with Cass close behind her.

 

They moved slowly around the camp, heading to a nearby pile of rubble. Suka took up a position behind it, settling her rifle on the broken chunks of concrete to steady it and watch the camp. Cass settled in, waiting for Suka to decide it was time to make a move. It was two hours later when Suka tapped Cass with her boot.

 

“We ready to rock?” Cass asked.

_"Da,_ ” Suka said, staring down her rifle's sights.

Cass maneuvered herself around to get a better eye on the area, pulling out her shotgun just in case the nearby Fiends got a bit too close. From here, Cass had a great view of Cook-Cook, setting fire to a Brahmin. _De-licious,_ Cass thought, _freshly burned Brahmin._ Suka should have taken the shot by now, or at least told her what was going on.

 

She looked to the courier, and noticed that her breaths were shallow and quick, and oddly enough, her rifle was _shaking_ in her hands. She followed Suka's eyes, watching them fall on Cook-Cook. Suka's shoulders rose and fell slowly as she took a long, deep breath, saying what Cass assumed to be a prayer in Russian.

 

“You alright there, Su-”

The sound of Suka's rifle firing cut Cass off, as did the sound of the bullet nailing Cook-Cook's metal armor. Suka chambered another round, sending it downrange, firing again and again as more rounds echoed against the maniac's armor, knocking him down entirely. He had stopped moving, either from being winded or dead Cass couldn't tell. The nearby Fiends attacked, rushing them with baseball bats and half-broken rifles, their shots wide and missing by miles.

 

A few well-aimed shots from Cass's shotgun put them down for good, especially since none of them had any armor heavier than a quilt. Suka's rifle had long began clicking, a sign she was empty, but yet Suka still held the rifle in her hands, working the bolt as if she had fifty more rounds ready to go. Cass reached over, putting a hand on her shoulder. Suka jumped, surprised that she was no longer in danger.

 

_“My yego poluchili? Neuzheli chelovek, kotoryy ubil moyego ottsa, umer?”_ Suka sounded like she was processing everything at once, her voice rising in a barely-concealed panic.

“He's wasted, Suka,” Cass said, still holding the courier's shoulder. “Cook-Cook's dead.”

Suka's eyes became confused, and they darted between Cass and the dead Fiends in front of her. Eventually, her breathing went back to normal, and she slowly closed and opened her eyes as if waking up from a dream.

 

“Are you okay, Suka? You're freaking me the fuck out.”

“ _Ya_ fine,” Suka said, getting out from behind the rubble. “Get bounty, yes?”

“How do you plan on-” Cass began to ask, but for naught. Suka had already ran over to Cook-Cook's body, pulling out a machete and hacking away at his neck. _Guess it's easier than dragging him back to Camp McCarran._

 

Cass and Suka traded the burden of carrying Cook-Cook's still-bleeding head back to Camp McCarran. Once they got inside the perimeter, Suka took the head back and held it up high as an example, to the cheers of the NCR snipers around them. Suka tossed the head at Major Dhatri, and he picked it up with a grimace as he examined it.

 

“Yup,” he said, trying hard to avoid smelling it too much. “This is Cook-Cook alright. Did he smell like this when he was alive? And the Fiends let this guy touch their _food?_ ”

“Where money?” Suka asked, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“Right, here's your payout,” the Major said, tossing her some caps. “If you wanna go after one of those other maniacs, let me know.”

Suka counted up the caps, placing them in a pocket once she was satisfied. “Maybe later, yes? Have other business.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Major Dhatri said, shrugging as he headed off to take care of Cook-Cook's head.

Cass watched Suka crack her neck, before checking her ammo in the various pouches on her armor. “Was good fight, yes? Must travel more, yes?”

Something was _off_ about Suka today, but Cass couldn't figure out what it was. Was it related to seeing Cook-Cook? Whatever that weird break in her head was when she started shooting, acting like she would never run out of ammo? “I guess so,” Cass finally said, still trying to figure out what was going on.

 

Suka looked like she was ready to be somewhere else. Time to hit the road again.

 

* * *

 

 

Another two weeks of travel concluded far north of Vegas, at a small town called Jacobstown. Cass didn't know why Suka felt the need to come here, since she knew it was an outpost of super mutants. Given how derisively Suka referred to super mutants, she didn't think Suka would want to even be here. Stranger things have happened, though.

 

As they neared the little town, Cass noticed Suka beginning to slow down, until she stopped entirely. Cass turned to see what the holdup was. Suka had stuffed her hands in her pockets, looking around the snowy forest that surrounded them.

“Hm,” Suka muttered. “ _Sneg.”_

“Huh?”

Suka gestured to the snow-covered ground. “ _Sneg._ Have not seen before, yes?”

“How'd you not see snow before?” Cass asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Suka frowned. “Forget live in vault, Cassidy? Hear tales of _Rossiya_ , see pictures, but not...how you say, _see with own eyes,_ yes?”

“You're telling me your deliveries never took you up here?” Cass replied, still skeptical.

“No, clients no like Jacobstown. Say dangerous.”

Cass noticed that, for the first time in maybe three weeks, Suka was actually _smiling_ as she looked at the snow. It was a stark contrast from the murderous rage-filled woman she knew every time a fight started. _Don't get too close,_ she warned herself. _She's dangerous. Don't forget that, Cass._

 

Suka muttered quietly to herself, probably in Russian, slowly spinning herself around to take in more and more of the sights. “Cassidy,” she finally said in English. “When done, visit forest, yes?”

“Why do you wanna visit the forest?”

“Want feel like home. _Ya khochu byt' v Rossii.”_

Maybe taking a break in the woods would be nice. Maybe this cold forest offered some kind of solace for Suka. Or, maybe just as likely, she just wanted to be somewhere that matched her own heart. Cass couldn't tell. “Alright, sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Suka smiled back, nodding. “ _Spasibo,_ Cassidy.”

 

Entering Jacobstown was met with a certain level of suspicion. After all, a couple of humans wandering in wasn't exactly something that happened every day. Suka cajoled her way past the guards, promising to their leader, Marcus, that she wouldn't start any fights and would do what she could to help. Cass wondered if Suka really believed what she was saying at this point, but it wasn't her place to call it out. Not with all the nightkin and super mutants around.

 

Cass hung out in the lodge, relaxing for a bit while Suka talked to the local doctor. She didn't hear much of the conversation, more focused on the issue of Milsurp Review they had lying around in the area. Something about nightstalkers, and mental illness. Suka headed out not long after, telling Cass to sit back and relax. Whatever she was doing, it apparently didn't need her around.

 

An hour passed, with no sign of Suka. One of the doctors, a ghoul, happened to pass by on her way to get something, and noticed a very out-of-place Cass among the wandering super mutants.

“Huh,” she said, her voice gravelly and rough like any other ghoul. “I'd heard there were new people in town, but I'd figured they were more super mutants. Nice to meet you – I'm Calamity.”

“Cass. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” Calamity said, smiling. “I like to change names every decade or so. Makes life interesting.”

Cass leaned forward a bit, looking around as if that'd help her see Suka. “Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where my friend went, would you? We got a score to settle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Calamity said. “Doctor Henry sent her off to see what was with the nightstalkers just beyond the walls. They're invisible, and we think it might help us figure out a cure for the nightkin's schizophrenia.”

 

“Ah, of course,” Cass said, making sure to lay on the sarcasm extra-thick. “Finding invisible animals. Clear path to a medical breakthrough.”

Calamity shrugged. “Every little bit helps. I'll see you around.”

No sooner than Calamity had left, Suka barged in, with a nightkin wearing common gardening gear in tow. Suka ignored Cass as she came in, heading right to the doctor and having another conversation with him. He stepped out into the lodge's common area, calling for Calamity. It seemed they had some work to do. Cass shook her head, ignoring whatever they were planning on doing. Suka hadn't seen fit to involve her for whatever reason, and that was fine by her. Taking a break from what Suka got herself involved with this time was more than welcome.

 

Whatever they were doing, it seemed to be going well, judging from how excited the doctor sounded. Cass looked up, however, to see a group of nightkin stomping into the room. Their apparent leader stood tall, taller than even a regular super mutant could, as if he were _proud_ of something.

“Well, well. Congratulations on getting the Mark II prototype functional, doctor,” he said, barely hidden contempt in his voice. “Now hand it over and we'll be on our way.”

Suka scoffed, standing between the nightkin and the doctor. “ _Vy tupyye mutanty. Vy deystvitel'no dumayete, chto mozhete prosto voyti i potrebovat' prototip?”_

“Words don't make sense, _human,_ ” the nightkin replied. “Well, doctor? Are you giving us the Mark II prototype or not?”

 

Cass slowly snuck around to get into a better tactical position. If Cass's assessment of Suka was right, they were itching to start a fight pretty soon. She checked her ammo – plenty of rounds, two shells ready to go. She hadn't fought many super mutants, but she reckoned their size probably gave them a bit of a harder edge. Regular buckshot might not do the trick in keeping them down. She _really_ wished she had some slugs right about now. One good shot to the head would down them for good.

 

“Walk away, yes?” Suka demanded, raising her rifle into a ready position. “Not get prototype.”

The nightkin growled, his massive fists clenching. “I _knew_ humans could never be reasonable! I knew it! Stupid, stupid human! I'll _kill_ you!”

“ _Ya ne tupoy!_ ” Suka shouted, dodging the leader's undisciplined punch. Cass had seen this side of Suka before. Her eyes were filled with a blood rage, and she swore that some days, Suka's blue eyes became red as if the blood clouded her vision. It happened every time Suka got into a fight, really – it was like she fought as a woman possessed, unable to be reasoned with or calmed down. The only thing that really stopped her was being hit by something.

 

Either way, the super mutant leader fell pretty quickly, a double whammy of Suka's rifle round hitting his head and buckshot from Cass's shotgun entering his back. The other two reacted swiftly, popping unaimed shotgun shells towards where they thought Cass was, and swinging wildly at Suka. Throughout it all, Suka seemed to just dodge each round and jab like she knew the moves her enemy made before _they_ did. The interior of the lodge soon became riddled with bullet holes, and the blood of nightkin as the other two fell, far faster than Cass expected.

 

“Christ, Suka,” Cass said as she reloaded her shotgun. “Tell me next time you plan on shooting up a place?”

“ _Davai, my zakanchivayem eto,”_ Suka said, staring angrily at the mob of mutants that began appearing outside the lodge.

Cass followed her bloodlust-filled gaze, trying to interpret her Russian with little success. She had heard “ _davai”_ enough times to figure that it meant “come on,” but the rest was lost to her. “Suka, what's your plan here?”

 

Suka never obliged her with a reply. Silently, Suka walked out the door of the lodge, firing upon the unfortunate mutants the second she breathed in fresh air. Not a single one escaped her wrath – the nightkin were first, followed by the regular ones, and even the one who had so helpfully assisted in the experiment was killed. Behind her, the doctor and Calamity walked to the windows, watching the same devastation with barely restrained gasps of horror.

 

“What on _earth_ is your friend doing?” the doctor asked.

“I don't know,” Cass muttered.

“She's massacring them, is what she's doing,” Calamity commented grimly.

“My god… can't you stop her? Please?!”

Cass shook her head slowly. “Nobody can stop her now.”

 

It didn't make any sense to Cass. All she could do was walk among the dead bodies, trying to derive meaning from the senseless slaughter. In the middle of it stood a battered and bruised Suka, blood pouring out of her mouth and breathing heavily. She must have run out of ammunition; her bayonet was blood-soaked and dripping onto her boots.

 

“Suka,” Cass warily asked as she approached the deranged courier. “Do you want to fucking explain this to me?”

“ _Oni ne zasluzhivayut togo, chtoby zhit'. Oni pyatna na etom mire.”_

“ _In English, goddammit,”_ Cass demanded. “I know you know how to tell me. What the _fuck_ were you thinking? What the _fuck_ kind of justification do you have for this?”

“Trouble place, yes?” Suka said, after calming herself down a little. “Angry place. Cause trouble for _Mokhave._ No trouble, no problem, yes?”

“And you think that gives you the right to play God here?!?” Cass shouted, doing her level best to not freak the fuck out and aim her shotgun at Suka. “Are you insane?!”

 

“ _Ya_ no crazy, Cassidy,” Suka said. “ _Ya_ take care of problems, yes? Want take care of Alicia woman and Van Graff bitch problem?”

Cass scoffed, shaking her head. “What, are you going to wipe out all of Freeside too if we go after the Van Graffs? Listen here, Suka, I stayed by your side because I thought you were going to fucking change. Guess my last warning didn't sink in too well. Things don't change, and _soon,_ I'm done.”

 

“ _Mokhave_ tough place,” Suka said, shrugging.

“ _That's_ your excuse?” Cass shot back, incredulous. “You need to be tougher. Straighten out, stop being so fucking shifty and an asshole, and see if that doesn't change your outlook.”

Suka drew a deep breath, her shoulders steadily rising and falling as she looked to the sky. At least she wasn't staring at the blood-soaked snow anymore, as if she were _proud_ of her massacre. “Make mistakes, yes? You judge not help.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Cass said, still seething with anger. “Last. Fucking. Chance, Suka. If you pull shit like this again, I'm going West and never looking back. Are we good to deal with McLafferty and the Van Graffs or what?”

Suka smiled, nodding. “ _Da._ Ready.”

 

Cass wasn't sure if she could entirely trust this courier, not anymore at least. She would have to keep on her guard from now on. Something was _wrong_ with her, and Cass wasn't about to let her throat be slit in the night because Suka had decided she wasn't her “friend” anymore. The ruins of Jacobstown were soon behind them as they headed on Cass's path of revenge. If she could make it out of this alive, she'd never have to see Suka again.


	8. Where The Enemy Sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass finally takes revenge upon Alice McLafferty and the Van Graffs. Meanwhile, Suka and Cass make a trip to The Fort.

Suka had decided to go after Alice McLafferty first, explaining in her usual way that it would be easier to kill her before the Van Graffs. Either way, Suka justified, whoever they went after second would hear what went down and would be on their guard. It only made sense to nail McLafferty now, and the more Cass thought about it, the more it made sense to her. She already had Cass's former company. She wasn't expecting any sort of retaliation. The Van Graffs protected themselves every day, in fear of someone like her.

 

Suka must have made thousands of bullets by now. She and Cass had stopped at the nearest place with a reloading bench, and Suka spent the past two hours breaking down and loading new ammunition for herself, packing them into five-round stripper clips. From there, they went into the pouches that covered her chest and belt. How Suka was able to store so much ammo in these tiny little pouches, Cass would never know. It was just another mystery the courier had that Cass didn't want to dive into.

 

“What plan?” Suka asked, in the process of measuring out gunpowder.

“We go in and kill Alice McLafferty. I didn't think you wanted anything more complicated than that.”

Suka emphatically shook her head, barely taking her eyes off her work. “ _Nyet._ Is not Benny. Need good plan. Many guards in _bagrovvy karavan_ , yes?”

“Yeah, I've seen the place,” Cass said. “Half of those guys only carry pistols. With what I've seen from _you,_ it'll be easy as pie.”

 

With a great deal of care, Suka distributed the gunpowder between the five cartridges in front of her, then moving the casings into the machine to actually load them. “Do you think _ya_ maniac, Cassidy?”

“What?”

Suka rotated the station around, preparing the next round for loading. “ _Ya_ slow-speak? What Cassidy think _ya_ _do?_ ”

“I think you're able to take on damn near anyone you want to if you get pissed off enough,” Cass said, folding her arms.

 

Suka paused, staring at Cass and intensely studying her. Her eyes were narrow, as if she suspected something, but eventually Suka rolled her eyes and went back to loading ammo. “ _Ya_ not crazy, Cassidy. Have idea, yes?”

_This oughta be good,_ Cass thought, gesturing for Suka to go on.

“Alicia woman sleep in guard barracks, yes? Sneak in. Kill there, _da?_ ”

“How the hell do you know where McLafferty sleeps?”

“See things. Is helpful, yes?” Suka asked, shrugging.

 

“Alright, then I guess that's our plan. I dunno about you, Suka, but I ain't got a silencer. We're gonna have to slice her throat or something.”

Suka nodded. “ _Da._ I let you do. Is only fair.”

Cass grimly nodded. It had to be her, at this point. She could trust Suka to murder without remorse, but this was personal. Cass had to see this one through to the end. She'd have to sharpen up her knife. It was looking a little dull, and while a dull knife is exactly what McLafferty deserved, it'd take up time she wasn't sure she had when it came.

 

* * *

 

 

It was nearly midnight when they arrived at the Crimson Caravan. The high walls of the camp seemed even higher tonight, as if the walls themselves knew what she and Suka intended to do. Suka was trusted here, and none of them knew Cass personally, and so entering was easy. The camp was quiet, as expected, and the guards didn't give them second glances, anticipating that they were traveling caravaners or new people looking for work.

 

She and Suka snuck their way into the guard barracks, with Suka leading the way. Cass slowly closed the door behind them, making sure it didn't make a noise. The wooden floor creaked with each step, potentially betraying them, but the guards were all fast asleep. McLafferty was at the end of the barracks, sound asleep.

 

Suka looked back at Cass, nodding to make sure the plan was still on. She'd hold McLafferty's right arm down, and keep her mouth covered so she couldn't scream. Cass would hold down her other arm, and slit her throat. It was a decidedly grim operation, but it had to be. If even a little sound got out from her lips, they'd have to get into a shootout.

 

Together, and as quietly as the old wooden floor would let them, Cass and Suka approached McLafferty. Suka got into position, and after getting a nod from Cass, held down the prescribed arm and stuffed a rag into McLafferty's open mouth. Cass put a knee to McLafferty's other arm, stopping her from trying to wrestle the weapon away from Cass.

 

Cass looked down into McLafferty's eyes, full of panic and fear. Good. She struggled mightily, and seemed to realize her legs still worked as she thrashed about, but she couldn't find the leverage to hit anything to make a noise or them. Cass leaned in close to McLafferty's face, showing her the knife she was going to use to kill her.

“This is for what you did to me, you bitch,” Cass whispered, taking the knife and cutting McLafferty's throat open.

 

Immediately, a river of crimson red began to flow from her neck, and her eyes began to glaze over as death came. Suka took the rag away, nodding to Cass as she met her eyes. One problem done. The next one was armed to the teeth and ready to rock. The pair slipped out of the Crimson Caravan, with none the wiser to their crime.

 

* * *

 

 

Cass had acquired a set of body armor, courtesy of Suka's wallet. They couldn't take many chances here, not with the firepower the Van Graffs were packing. The weight of her new armor was just making moving around tougher, but it was well worth it. She didn't want to die because Gloria got a good shot off with her pistol. The guard outside the Silver Rush looked at them warily, definitely ready for them. Suka had Cass move forward, drawing the guard's attention to her. He wouldn't see Suka bring her rifle's sights up, nailing him with a single well-placed shot to the head.

 

She pulled out her shotgun now, waiting for Suka to catch up to her before they breached and cleared. Cass could hear them shouting inside. They must have heard the shot. Suka topped off her rifle, nodding to Cass. She was ready, and if Suka was ready, then there wasn't much Cass had to fear. Cass stepped back, kicking open the door to the Silver Rush.

 

The interior was restricted – chain-link fences prevented them from getting good shots in, and four guards already had set up positions inside. Plasma and laser shots flew past them as Cass traded shots with the Van Graff thugs. Suka screamed in Russian, working the bolt of her rifle as she charged forward, ignorant of the shots around her. She could hear the thugs start screaming. Either she or Suka had gotten some good shots in. Gloria Van Graff and her lapdog were shouting out orders, running into the back with a fifth guard. Cass joined Suka at the forefront, hastily reloading her shotgun as the next three guards lined up shots.

 

Within seconds, Suka had readied a new round, firing as fast as she could work the bolt and load new ammo. Cass too was ready to keep killing, blasting buckshot at each guard in front of her. Three down. One left. His eyes were full of panic, and his shots went wide as he tried to figure out which psychotic woman to shoot first. Cass was faster, though, and that only left the last two thugs and Gloria herself to deal with.

 

She had barricaded herself inside the back area, with her two thugs popping off shots through a barricaded wall. The door leading to the back was locked, and she didn't think their foes would let them just crawl through the hole in the wall.

“Got any ideas, Suka?” Cass asked, loading two fresh shells in.

Wordlessly, Suka began grabbing the grenades and plasma mines around them, planting one outside the door. She tossed a few grenades inside, forcing them to scatter. Seemingly losing his mind, one of the thugs unlocked the door and walked right on top of the mine, killing him instantly. Without a moment's hesitation, Cass and Suka surged into the back room, lighting up Gloria and her lackey. Cass lost track of how many shells she popped off, or how many lasers she had eaten. Something hurt, but she wasn't sure what. She could patch herself up later – all she had to do now was pump rounds into Gloria Van Graff.

 

She stared at them as the smell of gunpowder hit her nose, mixing with the odd scent of plasma on her armor. It was over. She had _won._

“Hope they're in hell right now, blinking, trying to figure out where they fucked up,” Cass muttered, spitting on Gloria Van Graff's corpse.

“Is Cassidy of alright?” Suka asked, looking concerned.

“Yeah,” Cass said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I am. Never realized how much anger I had in me. You know, when I figured this all out, there was this part of me that said 'you can't do to them what they did to you.' Fuck it. I feel _purified,_ and I love that there's no loose ends.”

Suka smiled warmly back, nodding. “Is good feeling, _da?_ I knew would like one day, Cassidy.”

 

The courier turned and headed out of the Silver Rush, not seeing anything she wanted to steal for the time being. For all her faults, Suka was right. It felt _damn_ good knowing the people who had fucked her over were dead and couldn't do a damn thing to hurt her, or anyone else, ever again. She had even enjoyed watching the life escape McLafferty and Gloria Van Graff's eyes.

 

Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, but it made her want to keep going. She finally understood what came over Suka when she got into a fight with someone ten times her size. As they headed out, and the whiskey and adrenaline wore off, Cass realized that this side of her was terrifying. The full power of what she had done hit her all at once, and she immediately felt sick to her stomach. She swallowed hard, hoping Suka didn't notice what was going on.

 

She'd have to fight hard to keep all this inside herself, stop her from breaking down crying in anger now. Suka didn't need to know. She _couldn't_ know that Cass had had regrets. _You're not her,_ Cass repeated in her head. _You're better than she is. You're not a murderer._ Not even that could help. Cass hated herself, and her justifications began to sound more and more like a refined version of the shit Suka always said. Cass now knew fully well what it was like to be Suka, and she had no idea how the fuck she was able to sleep so soundly every night.

 

* * *

 

 

Cass and Suka had traveled back to the Old Mormon Fort. She knew that she still needed to tend to the laser burns on her arms, making life miserable as long as she wore a shirt or stepped out into the sun. A cluster of small blisters covered her arms, forming a nice line where the shots had burned her. The doctor they had seen before, Arcade Gannon, he was there alongside the “actual doctors” reviewing their injuries and seeking to treat them. Suka must have gotten the worst of the firefight – she had practically been swarmed by doctors the second she walked in.

 

“Your friend's pretty reckless,” Arcade mentioned, tapping his pencil against his notepad. “Might get herself killed one of these days.”

“She's not my friend,” Cass replied, wincing as a doctor applied topical cream to her arms.

“That's a rather stark difference from your attitude when I saw you two in here...oh, when was it? A month or two ago?”

“Doesn't matter. As long as there's enough distance between her and I, that's all I need.”

 

Arcade nodded, jotting down another note as he watched the doctors examine her and Suka's wounds. No doubt he found these fascinating somehow. They were just an annoyance to Cass.

“Change these bandages daily,” the doctor said, still applying salve to her arms. “If you don't, you run the risk of infection.”

Cass grimaced. “Yeah. I'll be sure to do that, doc. Thanks.”

Arcade wrote something down, turning the pad towards her. “Sign here, if you would.”

 

But there wasn't anything for her to sign. He had written a note, for _her._

_Lots of gunfire at Silver Rush. Your doing?_

Cass looked up, confused, but he was looking away as if he was bored. Shit, he was a terrible actor. Cass wrote out a reply, not confirming anything but wanting to know why he was so keen on finding out. He took the notepad back, snapping back to meet her eyes for a second before playing the same trick again.

“Confirm this is right, please.”

_Not-friend uncooperative. What happened?_

She sighed, shaking her head as she wrote back that it wasn't his business, but that they had nailed the Silver Rush. What did he care anyway? Weren't the Followers all about peace, anyway? What did it matter to him if the Van Graffs were dead?

 

Arcade took a look at the notepad, seemingly satisfied. “Thank you,” he muttered, stepping away to speak with the head honcho, whatever her name was. Julia or something? Cass couldn't remember. The other doctors slowly headed away too, having either new patients to attend to or exhausting their treatment options for Cass and Suka.

 

Speaking of her, Suka appeared by Cass's side, already slinging her rifle over her shoulder and stuffing the extra bandages she had gotten into one of her many pockets.

“Come,” Suka said, barely even looking at Cass. “We go.”

“Go where?”

“Not matter. Not here.”

Cass sighed, grabbing her bag and shotgun. Going anywhere else beat hanging around the Old Mormon Fort.

 

* * *

 

 

Cass had no idea why they were at  Fortification Hill . Between drowning herself in whiskey to try and forget the twenty minutes where she had turned into Suka and hiding her emotions from herself, Cass had lost track of their travels here. How had they even gotten to the Fort? She vaguely remembered a boat ride. She remembered the landing party disarming them, freeing them of any stimpaks, weapons, and probably most important to Cass, alcohol. She felt naked without her shotgun and knife, and the eyes of the Legion upon her didn't help. It was hardly hospitality. Still, Cass could tell Suka was maintaining a stoic face as she passed by the slaves, the literal legions of armed men watching over them. Cass wasn't sure some of them would so hungrily eye them if they had seen Suka in combat before.

 

Or, maybe they would anyway. Maybe that kind of thing turned them on. Cass sure as hell didn't know.  They stepped up to Caesar's tent, where the guard outside stopped them.

“You must enter Caesar's tent  _alone,_ ” he said, holding a hand to Suka's chest. “Anyone else must remain outside.”

Suka smacked his hand away, and for a split moment, the guard raised his other hand to slap her, but remembered the Mark she wore. Maybe he thought it wouldn't look good to beat around Caesar's guest before she walked in. Suka looked back to Cass, no doubt debating whether to go in. They were at the mercy of the Legion here, and both of them knew it.

“ _Mne zhal',”_ Suka said, genuine sadness in her eyes as she lifted the tent flap to go in.

 

* * *

 

 

The conversation Caesar and Suka had didn't last long. Fifteen minutes, by Cass's time. Suka emerged from the tent with the Platinum Chip in her hand, turning it over as she regarded the power she held in her hand.

“So?” Cass asked. “What's he want you to do?”

“Bunker near. Caesar want destroyed. Thinks hold weapon for House.”

“You gonna do it?”

Suka looked at the nearby guard, listening very intently to their conversation as he appeared nonchalant. It wasn't quite working.

“ _Davay,”_ Suka said. “Let us go to work.”

 

They walked past Legion training camps and tents, silent as they did so. Suka saw no reason to let them know of her plan, if she had one, anyway. The guard outside the bunker nodded as he opened the door for them, and the guards inside told them that Caesar had gratefully allowed them to wield their weapons again, since they didn't know what was inside.

 

Suka snatched her rifle back without a word, stepping over to a console to insert the Platinum Chip into. Once she had done so, a hatch in the floor crept back to reveal a staircase leading underground. As she and Cass descended into the bunker, lights flicked on with a heavy thud one after the other. Twin doors bearing the Lucky 38's logo were illuminated at the end of the hall.

 

Cass checked behind herself quickly – the Legion hadn't followed them down here. “Alright, Suka, what's the play here?”

“Not blow up,” Suka muttered. “Use.”

“You wanna give House whatever the hell is down here?”

“You see,” she said, entering the elevator and heading down.

 

* * *

 

 

The first room bore several monitors, including one that had what she assumed was Mr. House's face on it. The buzz of electronics echoed in the room, as did Houses's unnatural voice.

“Well!” he said, surprised. “You're here ahead of schedule. I suppose it's just as well… this is where I wanted you to end up after all. I knew I could rely on Caesar to give you back the Platinum Chip.”

“What want do?” Suka asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“I need you to manually upload the data from the chip to the facility's primary computer. There's a terminal at the other end of this facility.”

“Sound easy,” Suka said.

“But… there's a complication. While I can broadcast to this screen, I can't control any of the facility's systems. That means I can't deactivate the security bots… which, judging by the status board, appear to be quite active.”

 

“Fine,” Suka said. “I not-activate. How do?”

“There's a security room near the base of the stairs. Do be quick about your mission, please.”

“ _Da, da,_ ” Suka said, waving him off as a door opened. It was time to go. House broke off the transmission not long after.

_“_ _Do not attempt to flee.”_

 

Cass knew that sound. That was a Protectron, getting ready to try and “arrest” them. Without missing a beat, Suka had drawn her rifle and silenced the robot forever, stepping over its metal corpse to get to the security room. Within seconds, she had begun entering passwords into one of the terminals, discarding the first one as “worthless.”

 

“I never much figured you for a hacker, Suka.”

“Learn things, yes? Many skills.”

Suka grinned, proclaiming she had dealt with the turret security. Soon after, she began banging away at the other one, before cursing up and down in Russian.

“What's the issue?” Cass asked.

“No break in,” Suka muttered. “Good password. Hate House.”

 

“Why wouldn't he just give you the password?”

“Forget, maybe? Not know. Not care.”

Suka left the security room, opening another door to a long, wide room. Protectrons shuffled towards them, both taken out rather easily by Suka's rifle. Cass warily walked in, unsure if the turrets were really off, but something else about this room gave her the creeps. It was too dark, for one. Why couldn't the power this place was using go to the fucking  _hall_ lights instead of these windows? Why even have lights that just sat in front of the windows anyway?

 

It was then that it dawned on Cass as she got closer. These weren't just any old lights. These were screens. _Television screens._ Each one belonged to a blank Securitron, seemingly endless as far as she could see. How deep _was_ this place? How many Securitrons did this bunker _have?_ How long had House been keeping this place a secret, waiting for someone like Suka to come down here?

 

“Suka,” Cass asked shakily. “You… you aren't really thinking of giving House all this firepower, right?”

“No,” Suka said, looking for another door.

“Then you're going to destroy this place like Caesar asked, right?”

“No,” Suka said flatly.

“Then what the fuck  _are_ you going to do with it?!”

Wordlessly, Suka opened up the next step in the bunker, heading down another flight of stairs and dispatching the nearby Protectrons without an issue. They ascended one final staircase, leading them to the Systems Room.

 

Suka walked to the control panel in here,  pausing as she stood in front of it. It looked like she was trying to figure something out, but that couldn't be right. They had used the Chip to get down here in the first place. She had to have known how to do this. With a weary sigh, Suka inserted the Platinum Chip into  the console . Instantly, the sounds of machinery whirred to life, and the  screen on the Securitron in front of Cass, and gradually row by row, changed. It went from a blank screen to a soldier 's face , with a five o' clock shadow and a cigar in his mouth, as machines roared.

 

“Suka…” Cass said, staring in horror as she watched these new Securitrons light up. “What did you just do?”

“ _Dvoe derutsya – tretiy ne meshay.”_ *****

 

It took far too long for Cass to find her voice. There were no adequate words for her to describe the sheer panic and horror she had at seeing House's machinations slowly rise to life. What was Suka thinking? She _hated_ House, or at least that's what Cass _thought._ So why was she helping House get what he wanted? Is this what she and House had talked about all those weeks ago? Was he giving her an army to protect her, so Suka would be able to roam the wastes and destroy whoever she wanted to without facing repercussions? Was he giving an implicit blessing for Suka to massacre entire towns depending on if she liked them or not?

 

But standing here, watching Suka look at the rows and rows of fancy new Securitrons, it was too much. There was no way around it. Cass had to extract herself from this situation, _now._ The realization was coming all too late for Cass that, the entire time, the courier had been _using_ her.

 

It made sense the more she thought about it. Wiping out Jacobstown. Negotiating with the NCR. Making friendly with the Kings in Freeside. Destroying the Silver Rush and Crimson Caravan. All of it made House more powerful. There wasn't a reason to do any of those things unless you wanted to make House the top dog in and around the Mojave.

 

Ironically, knowing Suka was irredeemable, knowing that she would never be anything more than a madwoman with a violent streak ten miles long, made it easier to leave. _God, what are you saying?_ Cass had flirted with danger before, but this was like striking up the Grim fucking Reaper at the bar. Cass couldn't deny it any longer. Whatever had first attracted her to the Russian was gone now, replaced only by contempt and fear.

 

“Okay, no,” Cass replied, her voice shaking as she backed away from Suka. “This… this is too fucking far. We're _done_ here, Suka.”

“ _Da,”_ Suka replied, calm as ever. “I expect, yes? Is time for Cassidy to go West?”

“Is that a fucking challenge?” Cass asked, ready to start a fight. She had seen Suka's hair-trigger anger before, and she was _not_ about to let the courier get the jump on her.

“No,” Suka said, turning to look at her. She seemed actually _sad._ Was Suka sad she was losing Cass as a friend, or as a hired gun? “ _Nadeyus', u vas schastlivaya zhizn', i vam ne nuzhno vozvrashchat'sya syuda.”_ ******  

 

Cass sighed, shaking her head. “You know I don't speak any fucking Russian, Suka.”

Suka tilted her head down, obviously trying very hard not to cry. Why the fuck was _she_ so broken up over this? What did Suka care about Cass anyway? “Hope have good life, yes?” Suka finally said, her voice breaking.

“I think hanging around you took ten years off me, Suka. Goodbye. Forever.”

Cass turned around, catching a split-second glimpse of tears forming on the courier's face. _Fuck it,_ Cass thought, _fuck her._ If she wanted to help House, then it was Cass's cue to leave the Mojave for good and put as much distance between her and New Vegas she possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - Where two are fighting, a third should not interfere  
> ** - I hope you have a happy life, and that you don't need to come back here.


	9. Waiting Around to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly a year after leaving Suka's company, Cass hasn't gone any farther than the Mojave outpost.

Cass had returned to the Mojave Outpost, waiting for the way to be cleared so she could finally go back home.

 

That was the plan, anyway. Cass had been here for months, just like last time, propping up the bar again. Every other week, Ranger Jackson just said the same thing – no way anything's going through. Legion activity was all over the place, both literally and figuratively. They were probing farther and farther into the Mojave, and as long as they were hanging around, there was no guarantee a caravan would get through.

 

Throughout it all, Cass kept hearing stories flooding in from fresh soldiers being transferred in, and the occasional merchant that wandered by. Stories about a courier that talked funny. Who she was with changed – some said a ghoul cowboy hung around her, others a Brotherhood scribe, and many more claimed a floating robot and a nervous doctor followed. As far as Cass could tell, none of these people could change Suka's ways. Each story came with either a new massacre somewhere, or legends about a woman so intensely focused in combat, she turned into a different person.

 

Each story brought back another bad memory, souring her mood. Cass wanted nothing more than to forget her entire time with the courier, but she just couldn't escape her so long as she was in the Mojave. Judging from the recruits coming in from California, she wouldn't even be safe there. Veteran Rangers coming in from Baja had already heard of her, wanting to meet the legend of the Mojave herself. Not even the best whiskey Lacey had behind the bar could help. How had she ended up like this? She thought her life would be getting back on track after she left Suka's side, not grind to a standstill.

 

And then the Legion attacked. Pretty fuckin' smart of them, to hit the one place the NCR was tied up at. Unfortunately, there were only a handful of soldiers at the outpost anyway, and the Legion had god-knows how many waiting in the wings.

 

She heard the gunshots first. Legion didn't often use guns, must be from the NCR. How long would they be able to last before the veteran Legionaries came into play? _Fuck it,_ Cass thought, hopping off the barstool and grabbing her shotgun. _If I'm gonna die at this outpost, I'm gonna go out fighting._

 

The burn of the whiskey encouraged Cass to head out and find out where the shooting started. It wasn't hard to figure out – the NCR troops had lined up behind the sandbags, firing off shots at unarmored recruit Legionaries. Did they have the ammo for the second or third waves? She wasn't sure. What she _was_ sure of was that she didn't have enough shells to take on even half of these Legion pukes.

 

To say being drunk on the battlefield blurs your sense of time and space was sort of like saying it's hard to shoot straight with a warped barrel. She had no idea how many Legion fell before her and the NCR, or how long it had been before the report of a familiar rifle filled the air. Before she knew it, the battle was over and the dead – Legion and NCR alike – lay around her. Standing between her and an army of corpses was the familiar face she had tried so hard to forget.

 

“Hello, Cassidy,” Suka said, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. Behind her, a ghoul with a massive, wide-brimmed hat, bandoliers looped around his waist, and a red bandana covering his neck stood with a revolver in his hand, watching Cass carefully.

“Uh, hey there, Suka,” Cass said.

“It's good to see you're not hurt,” she noted, looking around. Suka had learned how to speak English, apparently. Well, it _had_ been nearly half a year since Cass walked away from her, intending to go West.

Cass stood uneasily. She had heard about her traveling with a ghoul, but seeing him… it was something else entirely, and Cass wasn't sure how to reconcile it in her mind. She remembered the day Suka massacred the Bright Brotherhood. Why did she let this one hang around?

 

“Suka, if you don't mind me asking,” Cass finally said, finding her voice, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

Suka was about to reply, but paused, tilting her head slightly in irritation. “Raul,” she ordered, turning to glance at the ghoul, “these wounded Legion are annoying me. Kill them.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Raul said, nodding. His voice wasn't raspy like a regular ghoul. _Weird._ Raul did as asked, the sound of his revolver echoing in the desert as he began to put down the dying Legion nearby.

 

“It's been a long time, yes?” Suka said, stepping closer to Cass with that same wide smile on her face. “I'm sure you heard about some things I did.”

“Something like that. What's up with Raul?”

Suka chuckled, shaking her head as she recalled the memory. “Ah, yes, Raul. He was a prisoner at Black Mountain, the place with the crazy nightkin, yes? I freed him. He is my bodyguard now.”

Cass scoffed. “Doesn't sound like the same girl who was all about… oh, what'd you call it? _'I kill upyr'_ when we were at Novac?”

“Raul's not like _them,_ ” Suka said, a sudden venom in her voice. “He's _useful._ He's not delusional. And he's an excellent mechanic.”

 

“You haven't answered me yet.”

“Oh, yes, right,” Suka said, nodding. “I was actually tracking Legion to here. I would have been faster, but Raul slowed me down a little. It's nothing like traveling with Dr. Gannon, or Veronica darling.”

Cass held up a hand, trying to process what she had just said. “Hold up, Gannon? Arcade Gannon? The doc from the Followers? What, did you finally agree to relearn English from him or something?”

Suka nodded sheepishly. “I found out later he was trying to spy on me for them. But it is okay. Water under the bridge, yes? We are friends now.”

 

Seeing Suka again after all this time was simultaneously depressing and wonderful. Nothing had ever matched the excitement she had when traveling with Suka, and Cass didn't want to admit she'd never be able to replace it. Cass knew _how_ to get that feeling back, and it was standing right in front of her.

 

Cass couldn't help but notice too that Suka had changed in the past six months. Her armor hadn't changed much, aside from maybe some new patches here and there. Her rifle, the one thing Suka always used, was now accompanied by an old lever-action shotgun that was kept in a secure bag on her back. A new scar was on her other cheek, old grazing hit by the looks of it. Her voice was the same as Cass remembered, at least, but instead of broken English she now had a fairly detectable accent to it. It was all so familiar, but so different at the same time.

 

“Cassidy, you are very quiet. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Cass muttered. “I...it's been a hell of a long time, Suka. I've heard a lot of different stories about you since I left.”

“Done, boss,” Raul announced, reloading his revolver as he headed towards them.

Suka nodded, thanking him in Russian before turning back to Cass. “Well. I am not an expert, but I don't think staying at Mojave Outpost will help. Legion keeps probing deeper here. Is not safe, yes? Why not come back with me to New Vegas?”

“What, and stay in the Lucky 38 with House watching me take a bath? No thanks.”

 

Suka grinned. “I guess you didn't hear. Mr. House is dead. I _killed_ him.”

Cass paused, mouth agape as she processed what Suka had just told her. “Wh….why the fuck did you kill House? I thought you were working for him?”

“Pretended to,” Suka shrugged. “He was getting in my way. Come on, let us go to Lucky 38. You can meet Veronica darling there.”

Well, hanging around the dead men at the Mojave Outpost wasn't gonna get her West any faster. If the door to California was closed, then maybe it didn't hurt to hang around the Lucky 38. It'd give her something to _do,_ at least. Besides, Cass rationalized, just because she was at the Lucky 38 didn't mean she had to help Suka _do_ anything.

 

* * *

 

 

It took a solid two weeks to get to the Lucky 38. Cass and Suka had a lot of catching up to do in the meanwhile – mostly Suka just talked about “Veronica darling,” her Brotherhood of Steel girlfriend she had found at the 188 Trading Post. Other stories Cass had heard soon became filtered as either “true” or “outright lie.” The story of Suka finding three Deathclaw eggs in exchange for sleeping with the leader of The Thorn? True. A rumor she had traveled to the Big Empty, and had her spine, heart and lungs replaced by mechanical copies? Made up by some Freeside junkie.

 

As Suka went into each rumor, whisper, and tall tale, she couldn't help but wonder what it was about Veronica that had both made her want to stay with Suka over the Brotherhood, and what Suka had seen in her. It was a trend that Cass had noticed almost the instant they had encountered other people. Suka regarded men as objects, means to an end, but she always paid special attention to women. Cass wasn't fully going to bat for that team, but she could see the appeal behind sticking to only the ladies.

 

Maybe it was because she had spent so many nights alone – too many whiskey-dick afflicted soldiers souring her tune – but Cass recalled, at the beginning of traveling with Suka at least, being at least a little attracted to her. Long nights at the bar made Cass think, think about every interaction she and Suka had off the beaten path. Some nights, she dared to think the courier had feelings for her as well. It irritated the hell out of her, remembering her crush on Suka, but at least Suka had found something decent in her life. If what Cass suspected about the courier was true, she needed it.

 

The Lucky 38 looked a lot better than she expected it to. She thought there would be overturned tables all over the place, long-forgotten cards scattered on the floor and a billion chips on every surface. Instead, Securitrons with the same face she had seen on that bunker under Caesar's fort stood in the room, watching her every move with a near-pristine casino floor in front of her. It was almost like Suka was planning on reopening this place.

 

Yes-Man took them to the Presidential Suite, where Suka took off her armor and rifle, handing them to Raul. He disappeared, heading into a side room as a woman with dark brown hair and a light blue dress walked in, instantly hugging Suka tightly.

“I thought you bought it out there to the Legion,” she said, desperately hugging her even harder.

“ _Privyet,_ Veronica darling,” Suka said, a real smile on her face. “I always come back, yes?”

Veronica and Suka broke from their hug long enough to stare at each other lovingly, and in an instant Suka had draped her arm across Veronica's shoulders, excitedly gesturing to Cass with her free arm. “Veronica,” she said, “this is an old friend of mine, Cassidy.”

“Just call me Cass.”

 

“So, I'm Veronica,” Veronica said, nervously laughing. “But I guess you knew that.”

“Dare I ask how you two met?”

Suka placed a gentle hand on Veronica's other shoulder, leaning close to her ear. “Veronica darling, I need to take care of something with Yes-Man. Will be back, yes?”

Veronica watched her lover head into the elevator, flashing another smile as the doors closed on her. With a wistful sigh, she turned to look back at Cass. “She's really something else, you know,” Veronica said. “I'm so lucky to have met her.”

 

“So… do I get to know how you met, or is that private?”

“Oh, right!” Veronica exclaimed, flustered. “Yeah, she… she helped me figure some things out with the Brotherhood of Steel. I… I think if I hadn't left, I'd have died right alongside them.”

Cass raised an eyebrow. “Wait, the Brotherhood of Steel's gone? The _fuck?_ ”

“Yeah, I was surprised too,” Veronica admitted. “I guess they made more enemies than I thought. Suka told me that after all this time, the NCR had enough and went to wipe them out. It's… it's all gone.”

 

Cass could see Veronica was trying hard to fight back tears. _Poor girl,_ she thought. Something didn't add up about the story, though. If the NCR had ruined the Brotherhood, she'd have heard about it at the Mojave Outpost. Ranger Jackson would have bragged about it every chance he got. Cass had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't the NCR that too out the Brotherhood, but Suka herself. She wouldn't tell Veronica that, though. Not unless she knew for sure.

 

“Sorry,” Veronica said, breaking Cass out of her thoughts. “It's… I'm just really happy I found Suka when I did. She's been really good for me.”

“Hmm,” Cass said, folding her arms. “Well, I guess it's good Suka found something nice for herself.”

“Yeah,” Veronica sighed, smiling as she thought of the courier. “She ever tell you anything? About her past, I mean.”

Cass emphatically shook her head. “All I got out of her was she grew up in a vault.”

“Oh… huh. Then… I probably shouldn't say anything. I… I don't think Suka would like it if I told you.”

“Told me what?” Cass asked.

 

The elevator dinged as it opened, bringing Suka back to the floor Cass and Veronica were on. In contrast to her earlier cheerful demeanor, Suka looked pissed off as she called out to Raul for her gun and armor, slipping both on her as she sought out Arcade. Once he had been found, dragged out of one of the outlying rooms with half a bagel in his mouth, Suka stood in front of Cass and Veronica.

“Cassidy, I need you to come with me,” Suka said, checking to make sure her rifle was loaded. “There's a problem, and I'd like you to help.”

“Depends on the problem,” Cass replied, recalling the massacre at Jacobstown.

“There's a vault the NCR wants me to look at. I need your fighting expertise, and Dr. Gannon's science experience.”

 

“Wait,” Veronica asked. “Why can't I come? I've been cooped up in here all month.”

“No,” Suka replied instantly. “I need you to stay here, keep on your research, Veronica darling.”

“Suka, I can't stay in this casino forever. I don't want this place to be like the Brotherhood's bunker. Come on, I _really_ wanna punch something, can't you just let me-”

_“_ _Nyet,”_ Suka said harshly as she slammed her bolt closed. “You stay _here._ Raul will protect you, yes? He always has stories. It will not be so bad, Veronica darling, I'll be back before you know it.”

 

Veronica looked somewhat taken aback by Suka so quickly rejecting her, but soon perked up a little when Suka said something in quiet Russian to her, giving her a little peck on the cheek as she headed into the elevator. Cass followed, shrugging. Maybe Suka had calmed down since meeting Veronica, after all this time. There'd be only one way to find out.

 

* * *

 

“I'm no botanist,” Arcade commented as they neared the abandoned vault, “but I think this may not be entirely natural.”

The three looked upon the vault, covered in green grass, moss, and all sorts of exotic plants exploding from the entrance as if the vault itself had vomited luscious plant life from it. On the vault's sign, someone had written an ominous warning - “Stay Out!! The Plants Kill”. Cass could hear bugs, overgrown mantises, bustling about making noise.

 

“OK,” Suka said, pulling out her gas mask. “Put on masks. This vault is full of toxins.”

“How do you know that?” Cass asked.

“I had a Securitron probe area,” she explained, pulling a green latex mask over her face, tightening the straps to the back of her head. “I do not take chances.”

Cass looked down at the gas mask she had in front of her. They all had the same model, a latex headpiece with round glass lenses, with a circular filter. Suka had given each of them four extra filters, to be used as needed.

“I do not know how long we will be in there,” Suka said, her voice muffled through the mask. “Change your filter every four hours. Don't breath in as you change. Throw the old one away, it's not useful anymore.”

 

“Did the Securitron figure out what the toxin was?” Arcade wondered as he folded his glasses, putting them in a spare pocket. “I'd like to know what I'm being killed by before my brain stops working.”

“No,” Suka said. “Don't care. NCR wants what is in here, New Vegas has its own reasons for wanting the science in here.”

Cass scoffed. “You saying that as a friend of the NCR, or as Vegas's ruler?”

“For time, our goals are aligning, yes? Come on. Don't let your seal break.”

 

Cass pulled the mask over her face, not wanting to keep arguing with Suka. It didn't matter much at this point. It smelled musty on the inside of the mask, like nobody had ever cleaned it. Maybe they hadn't – who knows how long this thing had been hanging around. Wearing it, Cass could hear every breath she took, amplified by a hundred, and the world became nothing more than the two round eye holes she had.

 

Time to go in. The trio walked into the open vault door, stuck open by a locked mechanism. The interior of the vault was almost exactly like the outside – overrun with giant insects, covered from floor to ceiling with plants, and unusually lush for the harsh desert just outside.

“ Suka, what exactly are we looking for here?”

“Data,” Suka replied, chopping away at plants to clear a path. “NCR wants knowledge. New Vegas can use too.”

“What's this data for?” Cass asked.

“Food production, experimental crops, that sort of thing,” Suka explained.

 

“Well, I guess it's a nice change that we're going out into the world for humanitarian reasons,” Arcade said wryly.

The deeper they went into the vault, the more the plants covered every conceivable surface. It got to the point that Cass felt like the place was actually  _alive_ , a real, breathing organism rather than just a tomb of long-dead people. The air was thick, heavy, probably from whatever toxins Suka claimed were in here.

 

Of course, Cass's feelings of the vault being alive weren't much alleviated when something began moving on one of the staircases. It was subtle at first, and initially she thought it was a trick her mind was playing on her.

“What's that noise?” Arcade asked.

“Wait, you hear it too?” Cass replied.

Instantly, Suka stopped, her finger on her rifle's trigger as she slowly moved her head around, scanning the environment for threats. After a minute, she relaxed.

“Must be nothing,” she muttered.

 

Suka moved on, continuing down the stairs on her search to find the relevant data she and the NCR needed. Within seconds, the three heard the tell-tale shuffling of feet  on their left . Suka whipped around, staring  at a group of ferns and without a second's hesitation, rais ed her rifle and fir ed a shot. Cass turned in time to see a vaguely human-shaped green form hit the floor, a new hole in its head as green…  _something_ spewed out from the wound.

 

“Did… wait, sorry,” Arcade stuttered, “is that thing  _human?_ ”


	10. There Stands the Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass, Arcade and Suka venture deeper into the Vault, with more surprises awaiting them inside.

“No,” Suka declared, chambering a new round. “That's not a human.”

“Are you _sure?”_ Cass asked. “This thing looks like a human to _me._ ”

“OK, ignoring the obvious philosophical questions of what makes a human a human, Suka, I'm pretty sure this _is_ a person, ignoring the more… well, plant-like qualities to it.”

 

Both Cass and Suka looked at Arcade with bewildered faces, wondering what he was doing as he knelt down to examine the plant Suka had just shot.

“What do you mean, Dr. Gannon?”

Arcade sighed, lifting up one of the being's limp arms. “Look at it. Humanoid arms. Humanoid legs. I'm pretty sure whatever's down _here,”_ he gestured to where the crotch would be, “is human too.

 

“What is your point?” Suka asked.

“This isn't some happenstance genetic mutation,” Arcade explained. “You don't set out to grow some corn and accidentally end up making a human-plant hybrid. Not without an actual human element in it.”

Suka rolled her eyes, reloading her rifle. “We are protected, Doctor. Why do you think I brought gas masks? We are here for the data, whatever these things in here are do not matter. If it is hostile, we will kill it. Understand?”

“Suka,” Arcade said, exasperated. “This is _not_ about whether or not these things want to hurt us. Whatever this vault was doing led to _this._ If the NCR gets its hands on this, we might see this sort of thing happen all over again.”

 

“Dr. Gannon,” Suka said, falling into an almost song-like cadence, “do I need to remind you this will help Vegas too? Do you want to condemn thousands to die because you have bad feelings about plant-people?”

Arcade sighed, avoiding Suka's gaze as he tried to reconcile his Followers training with preventing the NCR from unleashing a potential catastrophe. “I… I don't know. Whatever's happening in here isn't right. It's not safe to just hand this data over to the NCR wholesale.”

“ _Doctor,”_ Suka complained, “stop worry so much, yes? Do you really think I am that stupid?”

“I don't think anyone here wants to answer that one, Suka,” Cass chimed in, her first words in nearly five minutes.

“Whatever,” Suka said, rolling her eyes. “Come, let us go find data, yes? It has to be somewhere in here.”

 

With little left to debate, the trio descended further and further into the vault, killing all manner of mutated plant-human hybrids, and even killing a few overgrown plants that spat globs of spiked vitae at them. Suka checked every terminal she came across, discarding them as “useless” when they didn't contain the information she wanted. Arcade, meanwhile, voraciously read each entry, piecing together the entries and forming a coherent story about what had happened to this vault.

 

Each snippet Cass heard just made her even more worried for their safety in this hole in the ground. This entire vault screamed out to her, demanding she try to find a way to extract herself, Arcade and Suka from this place as soon as possible. Cass had become so consumed with nervous anxiety, she had scarcely noticed Suka and Arcade arguing with each other in front of a terminal.

 

“...so you think that just because you're in charge of Vegas, you get to decide who the food goes to? Are you insane, Suka?”

“Who else decides?” Suka countered. “My Securitrons have not stopped drug use in Freeside. Why should drug addicts get food that could go to good, _productive_ people like the Chairmen?”

“That's what this is, then?” Arcade asked. “An ideological affair? Prop up the people who support you so they'll help beat down whoever disagrees?”

Suka narrowed her eyes as she stared Arcade down. “If people do not _like_ my leadership, they should _say_ something. I have done great things for New Vegas. I ended Mr. House's tyranny. I brought _safety_ and _security_ to Freeside and The Strip! People can walk to West Vegas and be _safe_ , not _fear_ Fiend raids! Everything I have done was for the Strip, for Vegas!”

 

“What about Jacobstown?” Arcade shot back. “What about the Brotherhood of Steel? What about the Crimson Caravan? Do you think wiping those people out happens in a vacuum, Suka? Because it _doesn't._ Insane nightkin still roam the Mojave looking for Stealth Boys. The Brotherhood's remnants outside the bunker will find vengeance one day. Trade here has been _crippled_ because you decided the Crimson Caravan wasn't worth keeping around. Why destroy those groups if it just made things worse?”

 

“You want to know why?” Suka replied. “Because the mutants should not be suffered to live. I took their lives as a _kindness_ , a _gift_ for beings who don't know how terrible their existence is. The Brotherhood would have attacked Vegas. The Caravan… “ Suka paused, glancing for only a split second at Cass. “The Caravan was a business arrangement.”

“Okay,” Arcade said, nodding sharply. “I just wanted you to confirm that I'm traveling in the company of an insane fascist. Thanks.”

Arcade turned to leave, but before he could take even two steps, he was on the floor, swept off his feet by Suka. In a flash, Suka stood over him, her pistol aimed right for his head.

“I am sorry, Dr. Gannon,” Suka said calmly, and with a sweet tone that was terrifying. “What did you just say? Could you repeat that for me?”

 

“You're insane,” Arcade sputtered. “I should never have agreed to come with you into the Lucky 38.”

Suka's voice carried the same song-like cadence, still holding the pistol to his face. “It's too late. I'll track you down wherever you go. So, decide, Dr. Gannon, do you want to die in a dirty old vault, or peacefully in a comfortable tower?”

“I'd prefer not to die at all,” Arcade said. “But, if I must, a nice easy death sounds better.”

Suka's grip on her pistol did not relent for even a moment. The air was even heavier than it had ever been before, coupled with a tension so thick Cass could practically reach out and touch it. She dared not move, lest she incite Suka to shoot Arcade, or turn the gun on her.

 

After what seemed like hours, Suka drew the pistol away, holstering it. “Get up,” she commanded. “Consider this second warning, yes?”

_God, she even took your warning system,_ Cass thought to herself.

As Arcade recovered from being knocked off his feet, Suka silently opened the terminal, copying something to her Pip-Boy. Once done, she turned around and began heading out.

“Come” Suka said, “we have another task.”

 

* * *

 

 

This “other task” turned out to be rescuing a ghoul scientist, Keely, who apparently had been trapped in the vault for some time. As it also turned out, these four weren't the first to come into this vault either. Countless mercenaries and scavengers found their graves here, killed by either the toxins or the plants.

 

Of course, none of that mattered, because right now the exit was locked, and Keely had deleted the research data.

 

And she had just found out that Suka had downloaded it onto her Pip-Boy.

 

“Those files need to be erased,” Keely said with her raspy voice. “Hold out your arm and I'll have it done in a second.”

“No,” Suka said, already preparing to take out her rifle.

“So you're going to be stubborn about this?” Keely asked. “You're sure I can't change your mind?”

“Positive,” Suka declared.

 

Keely stared back at Suka, sighing heavily. “Then you give me no choice.”

She went to pull a gun, but Suka was far faster. In seconds, Suka had already taken out her rifle and shooting the old ghoul right between the eyes, killing her. Blood spilled onto the green plants below her on the floor, and Suka calmly collected her brass as she headed over to search the body. She dug out a small note, unfolding it and banging away at the terminal to unlock the door.

“Let us go,” Suka said.

 

Together, the three left Vault 22 alone, with another body added to its already extensive kill count. Suka reported back to Doctor Hildern, their NCR benefactor for the expedition, with a portion of the data. She claimed the rest had become corrupted beyond use, an obvious lie so she could keep the entire cache of data for “Veronica darling.”

 

* * *

 

 

They returned to the Lucky 38 not much worse for wear. Arcade had been banished to a small room on one side of the Presidential Suite, guarded by Raul 24/7. It was another three weeks before he was allowed out to do anything other than gather food in the kitchen. Upon being released from his banishment, he was almost apologetic, deferential to Suka, like he had been brainwashed to become her follower. It pleased Suka, and terrified Cass. Would she end up like Arcade? Would everything that made her _her_ just be wiped away, replaced by mindless service no better than the Securitrons Suka surrounded herself with?

 

So far, all of her predictions about Suka had been wrong, and now she had asked Cass to travel with her again. Once again, Arcade would be in tow. Where they were going, Suka refused to say. All she promised was “a good time.”

 

Whatever that meant.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another evening spent in a half-maintained hotel room in Nipton. It was a wonder at this point that the beds even supported anything, honestly, much less gave a decent night's sleep. But hey, it beat sleeping on the ground and hoping Radscorpions didn't decide to kill them in their sleep.

“Do you know what my name means?” Suka said, out of the blue as they relaxed.

“Uh, not really, no,” Cass replied, taking a sip of water.

“It means _bitch_ in Russian,” she explained. “My Vault, before I left, we had a lot of Russian men. _Dedushka_ said we were a diplomat's family, from before the War. The other men were soldiers, men Russia sent to protect the diplomat. We had many men, but not many women, and all but my mother spoke English.”

“Sounds like it sucked,” Cass said.

 

“Not worst part. The Russian men wanted to take over the vault, make it truly Russian. The others wouldn't let them, and… there was a big fight. The women shot themselves when they saw it was lost. So all that was left was me.”

“Oh shit,” Cass said, understanding what Suka was implying. “How… how old were you?”

“I had just turned ten when the fight happened. They killed my father because he didn't want to take over vault. Mama had died long ago, when I was six. So they used me, for _years_. It wasn't all terrible. At least they waited until I was fifteen to start.”

“What happened then, if you don't mind me asking?”

 

Suka took a deep breath, shutting her eyes as if that would make her unable to recall the memory. “I killed them all. Became courier. Men always said to me, _Suka, davai,_ _Suka, idi syuda,_ or _Suka, ukhodi._ Was used to it. I just made it my new name. It was an insult then, because I was lower than dog. Today… it's me.” She took off her upper layers, revealing her striped undershirt, turning to show Cass the inscription on her back as she sat on Cass's bed. “Can you read that?”

“No,” Cass replied. “You know I can't read Russian.”

“It says _Izmennik._ Traitor. They put that on me so that I, and everyone else in the Vault, would never forget what I was.”

Suka showed Cass her right hand. Near her wrist was a hand, two fingers up and the others clenched. Something else was written above it, but she couldn't translate it. All Cass could recognize was the number 18.

“What's that mean?” Cass asked, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“It says 'Slave of Vault 18.' They added four other women to their… how you say, _retinue_ by the time I killed them.”

“So, all these skulls then… ” Cass speculated, reaching out to touch Suka's arms. She withdrew them quickly, before Cass had even gotten close.

“One for each soldier I killed.”

 

Suka took another deep breath, slowly putting her long-sleeved shirt back on. Cass could tell this clearly wasn't over for her, even if this entire event had happened who knows how long ago. Cass barely even knew how old Suka _was_. This all could have happened ten years ago, or a few months before Benny shot her.

 

“Suka, I… “ Cass muttered, trying to find the words. “I'm sorry. Veronica mentioned something a while ago, said… said you wouldn't like it if she talked about it. Was this it?”

Suka slowly nodded, retreating to her side of the suite. “Veronica darling knows everything. I shouldn't have told her.” Suka's eyes slammed shut, and she pinched the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to stem the tide of tears. “She cried for a day straight. Wanted to go find my vault, take revenge.”

“Even when she knew you had already killed them all?”

“I should never have told her,” Suka repeated, unable to stop crying. “She was so sad when she heard the Brotherhood had been destroyed. I made it worse. I ruined her, Cassidy.”

 

On one hand, Cass was glad Suka was showing real emotion, and opening herself up so much to her. But on the other… it was strange. Cass glanced at the nightstand next to Suka's bed, spotting a half-empty bottle of vodka. _That'll do it,_ she thought. Must have been some extra-strong stuff. Suka didn't get drunk easily.

_“_ _Pochemu ya prodolzhayu prichinyat' bol' tem, kogo lyublyu?”_ Suka sobbed, curling up into a ball on her bed.

 

Spending time around Suka hadn't given Cass a better understanding of Russian, and so whatever Suka's lament was that echoed around the room was lost on Cass. Suka sobbed herself to sleep, either having drank herself into a depressive episode or so consumed with her sadness, she couldn't pay attention to anything else. Cass wasn't sure how long it had taken her to cry herself to sleep, but eventually the regular rise and fall of Suka's breathing filled the room. Slowly, Cass let herself get to sleep as well, closing her eyes and letting the stress of these past five minutes melt away.

 

* * *

 

 

Whatever Suka had admitted to Cass last night seemed to have disappeared from her mind, as she had gotten them started out traveling early. She admitted it would take them the better part of a day to reach their new destination, where it was nobody knew. However, the farther they traveled east, the better of an idea Cass had, especially once they went past Camp Searchlight. They were heading to Cottonwood Cove.

 

It was only once they had gotten around the irradiated ruins of Camp Searchlight that anyone dared probe the reasons behind this trek. Cass spoke up first. “What's the idea here, Suka? Another visit to Caesar?”

“If that's the plan,” Arcade commented, “then I'm turning around and going back to Nipton right here.”

“No,” Suka replied. “No visit to Caesar. I do not need to see him.”

 

They approached Cottonwood Cove, but instead of heading down the path to get to the Legion camp, Suka led them to an overlook that had numerous huts, trailers and a truck frozen in place hanging perilously off the ledge. Suka immediately began heading towards the truck, and out of strange curiosity, Cass and Arcade followed.

 

Until Suka's Pip-Boy began clicking. They weren't crazy – they _knew_ that was the sound of a Geiger counter going off.

“Suka, the hell are you doing?” Cass asked, standing far, _far_ away from the red truck that was making their Geiger counters click like crazy.

“Do you think these barrels will get all the way down there?” Suka countered, pointing to Cottonwood Cove.

“Probably?” Arcade said. “I mean, I'm no physicist, but… ”

 

Arcade paused, and his brow furrowed as his eyes darted from side to side as if he was watching a conclusion appear in front of him. “Wait, wait, wait a second,” he said. “What's going on? Am I playing Vergil to your Dante?”

Suka turned back to look at Arcade, confused out of her mind. “What are you talking about, Doctor Gannon?”

“I'd like to assume that we're tiptoeing into the mouth of hell out of academic curiosity, but I'm not so open-minded that I've lost my brains,” Arcade declared. “So, do you mind telling me what you're doing here?”

 

Suka shrugged, heading back and popping a few Rad-X pills into her mouth. “The Legion here is a problem. I solve problems.”

“And your solution to this problem is… ?” Arcade asked, gesturing for her to explain further.

“The Legion used a dirty weapon at Camp Searchlight,” she explained. “They made it uninhabitable. I will make Cottonwood Cove uninhabitable. An eye for an eye, yes?”

“Makes the whole world blind,” Arcade said. “Great! You're either unimaginably cruel or profoundly insane!”

 

Suka shrugged again, merely unlocking the truck's tailgate and watching the barrels roll to the ground at Cottonwood Cove. It didn't take long for those down at the bottom of the cove to succumb to the intense radiation that was emanating from the barrels. Her mission done, she turned to bring Cass and Arcade closer to the overlook's edge, holding an arm on their shoulders.

 

“Look at what happens when you cross me,” she said menacingly, looking at both of them in turn. “I _destroy_ you. I let mistakes happen, yes? It is only natural to make them. But don't make them too often.”

 

Suka turned them around, and together they made the long trip back to the Lucky 38. It would be another three months before Suka felt comfortable letting them out again.


	11. The Cliff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suka, Cass and Arcade make a trip to an unknown destination.

Suka had rounded up Cass and Arcade Gannon to travel with her, heading to a remote spot far north of Vegas, almost to the endless desert that threatened to get someone lost forever. She hadn't told them where they were going, other than “a vault,” with the only reasoning behind the entire trip being that Suka knew there would be weapons there. Cass knew Suka had been itching for an upgrade lately. Her rifle was capable, but she and Cass both knew it couldn't kill everyone.

 

The initial trip there had to have taken at least two weeks, if not two and a half. Suka additionally promised the vault would still have plenty of food, but neither Cass or Arcade were much inclined to trust that promise. The long desert days threatened to drain their entire water supply, but each time they got low, Suka managed to find a river or prickly pear fruit or some other source of water to sustain them for a little while longer.

 

Suka herself seemed to be more driven on this mission than any other, leading the way far beyond what she usually did. Multiple short, quiet talks between Cass and Arcade only confirmed that this was strange for _both_ of them. They hadn't seen Suka like this before, and it scared both of them to think about what might lie ahead of them at the end of this road.

 

They got their answer when Suka stopped suddenly in the desert, looking around for something. A cliff face was to their left, and in font and to the right, endless desert as far as the eye could see. Suka took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she turned and began marching to the cliff.

_“Est' na Volge utos, dikim mokhom obros, on c vershin' do samogo kraya,”_ Suka sang, but it wasn't a happy song. It was low, depressing, the sort of song you only hear around a campfire late at night when the whiskey's been flowing and the well of good memories has run dry.

 

_“I stoit sotni let, tol'ko mokhom odet, ni nuzhdy, ni zaboty ne znaya_

_Na vershine yego ne rastet nichego, tol'ko veter cvobodnyy gulyayet”_

Suka stared at the vault, slowly walking closer to it and the cliff face that held it. For a moment, she paused as if the cliff intimidated her. Maybe she was trying to build up some form of unknown courage to face it.

 

_“Tam moguchiy orel svoi priton tam zavel, i na nem svoi zhertvy terzaet_

_Iz lyudey lish' odin na utose tom byl', lish odin do vershiny dobralsya”_

They were closer to the vault now, and Cass could see a sign. There was a strange flag on it, next to what she recognized as an Old World flag. “Vault 18” was written below it, but below that was another sentence, written in Russian. At least, Cass assumed it was Russian – it looked like the same script on Suka's tattoos.

 

_“I utos chelovka togo ne zabyl, i s tekh por yego imenem zvalsya_

_I ponyne stoit tot utos i khranit, vse zavetnyye dumy Stepana_

_I lish' s Volgoy odnoy_ _vspominayet poroy, udaloye zhit'yo atamana”_

 

“Do you have any idea what she just sang?” Cass whispered to Arcade as they neared the vault.

“Not a clue. Something about a cliff.”

Who would have guessed Suka came from a vault only about two weeks away from Vegas? Suka slowly pulled on the lever to open the vault door, waiting for it to creak open enough for her to slip through. Cass looked to Arcade – he had pieced it together too. The significance of this place wasn't lost on either of them.

 

It was unlike any vault Cass had ever stepped foot in before. Where there would have been one security station, there were two on each side in the entrance. The signs were written once in English, then again in Russian. Vault-tec posters were mixed with what Cass assumed to be communist slogans on strange, blocky backgrounds.

 

“Suka, if you don't mind me asking,” Cass ventured, knowing she was walking into a potential minefield. “What are we looking for here?”

“I told you,” Suka said flatly as she kicked over a body clad in an olive uniform. “Weapons.”

These bodies looked strange. Were they ghouls? No, their skin wasn't falling off, drooping around the common areas she had seen ghoul skin weaken. These men were dead long before they could have succumbed to radiation. Besides, there wasn't even any radiation _in_ here. No, these guys had been shot. She could see the blood that had pooled around their bullet wounds, the holes in their uniforms that told her exactly where they had met their fate, and their bodies forever mummified as a permanent reminder of who they had once been.

 

Arcade had already begun trawling through computers, but twisted his face in confusion when he managed to unlock the password for one of the terminals. “I...guess I can't be surprised, but it's in Russian. Uh, Suka, what does this say?”

Suka headed over, glancing at the screen as she read through it. “Security terminal. Logged everyone who came in on the vault's first day. Logged everyone who went out after vault was opened.” She sighed, heading deeper into the vault. “ _Davai._ We go to the armory.”

 

_So this is where it all happened,_ Cass thought as she and Arcade fell in behind Suka. This is where Suka had spent ten years – either over it, just shy, or exactly – being raped and abused by the people who were supposed to be her countrymen. How Suka had ever managed to make it out of this hellish scenario, Cass wasn't sure.

 

Suka never bothered to search rooms, trying to find ammo or medicine, anything useful she could take for her own purposes. For the first time since killing Benny, Suka had a singular goal and nothing would distract her from it. She walked to the armory, stepping over the mummified bodies of what Cass assumed to be the Vault security, but they weren't like the Vault security she had seen elsewhere.

 

Cass suddenly remembered when Suka had told her about her tattoos – these weren't just any regular men. They were soldiers. _Russian_ soldiers. Obviously not the same ones who had been first sent to the Vault, but Russian soldiers nonetheless. These bodies on the ground were the men who had done this to Suka. Suka had always said she killed them all. How on Earth had she ever done it?

 

Suka found the armory without an issue. At least, that's what Cass assumed Suka had found when she opened the door to the “Арсенал” and placed her old rifle just outside it. Arcade had already begun looking around, poking through open doors Suka had ignored. Cass knelt down to check out one of the soldiers. She couldn't have found anything valuable, but maybe these dead guys would give her a clue about what had happened here.

 

As she moved the soldier's old clothes around, she saw the same striped undershirt Suka always wore. Red horizontal stripes on white fabric, low cut. Maybe this was some military thing? Standard issue Vault clothing for this place? Cass couldn't tell. Some were like the man she was crouched over now, in full uniform, but others had only their combat pants on, their chests covered by the same striped shirts. Strangely enough, some had light blue stripes, and there were even a handful that had black stripes. Arcade whistled, drawing Cass's attention. He waved her into the room he had gone into, a pained expression on his face. Curious, Cass followed.

 

It was like Suka had described once, when she was drunk on vodka and switching between Russian and English without care. There were chains on the wall, and four women, all naked, were locked in manacles. Their bodies told the only story Cass needed to know. These were the slaves of Vault 18, their broken, bruised bodies characterizing the crimes that happened here.

“Is this what I think it is, Cass?” Arcade asked.

“Yeah.”

“Was Suka one of… them?”

 

“One of _who?”_

Both Cass and Arcade jumped, whipping around to see Suka staring them down, a strange rifle in her hands with a curved magazine and short, wooden furniture on the stock and handguard. She met both of their eyes for a moment, before looking past them to check the wall. With a frown planted on her face, she stepped between them, staring at the dead women in chains.

 

Neither Cass or Arcade dared to breathe, much less say something or move a muscle. After what seemed like an eternity, Suka slowly exhaled, turning away from the wall. “This is a bad place,” she said. “You two can look for something nice if you want, but you won't find much here. I'll be outside.”

Arcade, shaken from Suka coming up behind them, shook his head as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. Once he had done so, he announced he was going to try downloading the files from the Vault terminals he could find. Cass figured it might be good to at least check in with Suka, maybe make sure this place hadn't freaked her out or something.

 

Cass found Suka outside like she had said she would be, smoking a cigarette and organizing the magazines and bullets she had found in the armory, placing them into a large bag she had taken with her.

“You alright, Suka?”

Suka glanced up for a split second, turning back to her work. _“Da,_ ” she said, flicking ashes off her cigarette. “Needed weapons, ammo. I got what I came here for.”

“Listen, I know I'm walking on some real eggshells here, but… you wanna talk about anything that happened in there?”

“No,” Suka replied. “They're dead. It doesn't matter.”

“You can't just walk in there, grab a gun and a couple dozen magazines, and then walk out like nothing matters, Suka. Arcade and I aren't stupid. We can tell when something's bothering you.”

 

Suka tossed her cigarette away, putting the magazines and bullets into her bag. “I told you,” she said in between stowing ammunition away, “it doesn't matter. They're _dead._ ”

“If they don't matter, why do you have thirty dead men on your arms?”

_“_ _None of your goddamn business,”_ Suka growled. “Where is Dr. Gannon? We need to move soon.”

It was clear Suka didn't feel like talking. Cass sighed, heading back into the vault. “I guess I can go see where he went,” she said.

“Please do,” Suka said, standing up and preparing to get on the road.

 

Cass checked nearly ever corner of the vault, trying to find Arcade with little luck. The Overseer's office was empty, unless you counted the body with a peaked cap and a chestful of medals as occupied. Nothing to be found in the vault's various science rooms. She didn't much like the idea of going through every little personal room this vault had looking for Arcade.

 

Unexpectedly, she found him in the common area on her second tour of the vault, standing next to a table. He jumped as he heard her footsteps come in, almost as if he were expecting… well, maybe Suka.

“Oh, it's you,” Arcade said, relieved.

“Suka's itching to go. Got what you wanted?”

“Yes. I… I think it's best if we all leave this place behind for a while.”

“Suka will probably agree with you on that. Let's roll.”

 

They soon rejoined Suka outside, who tossed the bag of ammunition to Cass for her to carry. In silence, they left the old vault behind, leaving it to grow old and rust away, forgotten like countless other vaults across the world.

 

* * *

 

 

Arcade was nervous when they got back to the Lucky 38. Far more nervous than he usually would be. Suka and Raul had headed out that morning, announcing she had “business” to take care of as she left with her new toy on her back. Cass expected to see the mood around the Lucky 38 mellow a little, but instead it just felt as oppressive as ever. Maybe more so. Cass had learned long ago that the walls had ears – conversations she thought were private Suka knew about, even if she never said it outright. Suka always had a way of knowing exactly what was getting under someone's skin, and was charming enough to make every “how did you know” conversation seem natural.

 

Despite this, she found Arcade struggling to sound out words, reading off a book and matching it to files on a Pip-Boy he had found somewhere. Between the book and his arm was a pad of paper, a clenched pencil scribbling down notes whenever he came across something that warranted being written down.

 

“Where'd you get the Pip-Boy, Arcade?” Cass asked.

He sighed heavily, clearly regretful. “You know how I said I was going to download files from Suka's vault?”

“Yeah...” Cass looked at his desk – on it was the paper, a pencil, and a Russian to English dictionary. He must have found that at the Vault.

“I found all the Russian ones, put them on this Pip-Boy I found in Suka's vault. Each one's categorized by date. Did Suka ever tell you anything about that vault?”

Cass sighed, recalling the memory of Suka revealing the meaning behind her tattoos. “Lot of soldiers. Not people like you and I – Russians, like her.”

 

“That explains some of these terms, then,” Arcade said, leaning back and stretching his writing hand out. “Cass, I don't have to be a doctor to tell you some really messed up things happened in that vault.”

“Figure anything out? Or did you just learn how to tell me my mom's a whore in Russian?”

“Both, actually,” Arcade said with a wry smile. “From what I can figure out, these Russians were what they call VDV, GRU, OMON – I don't have any idea what all these acronyms are, mind – but the important thing is they were all highly trained. Anyone who was there was probably descended from them.”

 

“Alright,” Cass replied, taking a seat on the nearby bed. “So… other than that?”

“Something happened about thirty two years ago,” Arcade said, settling in to begin a lecture. “Tensions were high for some reason – the files explaining that I couldn't find – and the soldiers decided to be like their revolutionary forefathers and take over the vault.”

“Sounds about like what Suka told me,” Cass said. “Nothing new so far.”

“Well. This might be new,” Arcade said with a degree of sadness. “Suka's father defied them, helped the English-speaking vault residents fight back. So… they killed him. The Major, the one who organized all of this… he wrote in the Overseer's terminal that Suka was 'war booty' to be distributed as needed.”

 

“Do you mind if I ask you something, Arcade?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Do you think what happened in her vault is what made Suka the way she is?”

Arcade's eyebrows danced, and he readjusted his glasses as he tried to come up with a response. He flubbed over his words for a few moments, meaningless babbling that was atypical of the doctor.

 

“Well,” he finally managed to sputter out, “I don't think so, no. I'm no psychologist, mind, but… she clearly suffered a lot in there. It doesn't surprise me she's as angry as she is. Sorry, do you mind expanding on that question a little?”

“With everything. What she's doing to Vegas. What she did to damn near everyone she's ever met. How she is around Veronica. _With_ Veronica. You've seen it.”

He sighed, looking away from Cass's eyes as if that'd make his answer any easier. “I don't know. It certainly may have colored her perspective of what constitutes a normal, healthy relationship. I think Suka's suffered a great deal of psychological trauma with no appropriate outlet to deal with it. If I thought she'd listen, I'd have her visit Doctor Usanagi, have her work out some of her problems.”

 

“Suka'd never admit to that,” Cass said, shaking her head.

“Right,” Arcade agreed. “She's too proud to do that. Or too stubborn. Hard to tell.”

“What do you reckon we can do?” Cass asked, leaning back.

Arcade let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “Not a whole lot, I think. I should finish this up. I have most of it done already.”

 

“More translating, huh? Interesting work. What's that there?”

“This?” Arcade said, lifting up the Pip-Boy. “It's the last file anyone ever made.”

“Yeah? What's it say?”

“Keep in mind, I haven't gotten through it all, and I'm still finding some words - “

“ _What does it say, Arcade?”_

 

“It's an audio file. I don't know who's talking, but I can hear Suka. It's the first...oh, maybe five minutes of her rampage through the vault?”

“Arcade, tell me that Pip-Boy was never connected to these terminals.”

Arcade looked confused, and then the horror became apparent on his face once he realized his mistake. “Oh good God, what have I done?”

“ _Fuck,”_ Cass shouted, standing up and clutching her head. “God fucking dammit. Suka's gonna fucking kill us when she gets back.”

“Do you really think she will?”

 

“Why _wouldn't_ she?! Fuck, Arcade, she's gonna hear this entire fucking conversation! That fucking robot up there is recording every single word we're saying! _Fuck!”_

“Maybe… maybe we can slip out before she comes back, or…“ Arcade's face fell as he realized how futile it'd really be. Nothing could help them now.

“She'll track us. She'll cross the fucking Mojave if she wants to. May as well just grab a gun and shoot ourselves now, save Suka the goddamn trouble.”

 

Cass scanned the room again, trying to find some way to escape the god-awful situation she had found herself in. Somehow, this entire time, she had failed to notice Veronica standing in the doorway, her mouth agape in mingled shock and confusion.

“Oh fuck,” Cass muttered, staring at Veronica. Arcade looked to the door too, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration as he saw who it was.

“Great, just great,” Arcade said. “How much of that did you hear, Veronica?”

“Enough, I guess,” she said, her voice wavering. “You… you guys really should leave.”

 

Cass shook her head. “No. We can't leave. That'll just make us look worse. Arcade, we gotta wait for her to bring it up.”

“Cass, please excuse my Latin, but have you lost your fucking mind? Why would we ever wait for her to bring it up?”

“Because that gives her a chance to change her goddamn mind,” Cass hissed. “Come on. We all know how she is. Just… let's wait for her to get back. Act _normal,_ goddammit.”

“I don't know how you expect me to act normal when she could pull that pistol on me at any second, but alright,” Arcade conceded.

 

That settled it. There wasn't much they could really do now other than wait. Would Veronica say anything to Suka? How long would Suka take before talking to Yes-Man? Would she even do anything, or have Raul pop them in the middle of the night and toss their bodies out with the trash? Anything was possible, and Cass wasn't sure she liked any of the options before her.

 

* * *

 

 

Suka returned five days later, and for a while at least, all seemed calm. Suka asked a few times at the dinners they had why Arcade and Cass seemed so nervous, even asking Veronica what was going on. For her part, Cass did everything she could not to betray herself. Arcade's acting had improved, and even he was able to avoid arousing suspicion. Cass assumed that, anyway. Suka never made an indication that she and Yes-Man had talked about what the Lucky 38's recording devices had picked up, or if she had even bothered listening.

 

Three more days passed, with no change in the status quo. Suka seemed content to hang around the Lucky 38 rather than going out and finding a fight, spending more and more time with Veronica or striking up casual conversations with Cass and Arcade. Usually, Cass would find this friendliness reassuring, but lately it just terrified her.

 

On the fourth day after Suka's return, Raul came into her room, simply saying “the boss” wanted to see her in the penthouse. She was guided by Raul to the elevator, where Arcade had already been stood in front of. She gave a worried look to him – it was clear they both knew what was coming. Suka _never_ called anyone up to the penthouse. Only Veronica was allowed up there, and even then her visits were fleeting, only when Suka had been dealing with running the Strip and needed a release.

 

Raul lightly pushed them into the elevator, watching them as the door closed and it slowly took them up to the penthouse. Cass suddenly felt as if the air had become thin and her chest tightened. This elevator was taking fucking _forever_ to get up.

“What do you think she'll do?” Arcade asked as they neared their inevitable doom.

“Whatever it is, I hope it's quick,” Cass said.

 

Finally, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. As both of them stepped out from the elevator, they heard the sound of music playing in the background.

“Oh no,” Arcade groaned quietly. “I know this song. It was one I downloaded from Suka's vault. I… I couldn't translate it.”

“Fucking wonderful,” Cass muttered.

The pair edged closer towards the source of the music, finding Suka relaxing on one of the penthouse's pristine white couches, singing along with the deep-voiced soloist. Her usual beige shirt and armor had been traded for a pair of black pants and an olive green jacket, one that was remarkably familiar to the ones Cass had seen at Vault 18. Suka looked up to see them awkwardly inching their way in, and waved them down, a broad smile on her face.

 

“This was one of my favorite songs when I lived in Vault 18,” she said, standing up and gesturing to the holotape player. “Do you know what it's called, Dr. Gannon? Since you downloaded all the files from my vault?”

“Uh, I… think it's _'For the Sake of Future Days'_ , right?” He stuttered, unprepared for such a question.

Suka smiled again, shaking her head in amusement. “No, it is called _'The Ballad About Russian Boys.'_ The VDV in my vault liked singing it a lot. One of them, Misha, he really liked it, thought it was about him. Imagine that!”

 

Suka laughed before taking a deep breath as she stared out into the window to the Strip, watching the lights glitter under the morning sun. “This song reminded us that Russian men had sacrificed themselves for so long. And more Russian men were sacrificing themselves here, in the Mojave. I used to like this song. Then _you_ had to ruin it for me.”

The singer ended a particularly long, depressing note, and Suka turned around again, staring them down with a demonic smile. “This is my favorite part. Do you know what Leonid Kharitonov is saying, Dr. Gannon?”

“N-no,” Arcade admitted, avoiding Suka's intense gaze.

“The year 1941 burst into fire,” Suka explained, waiting for the singer to finish as she spoke. All the while, she walked towards them, taking off her jacket to reveal a short-sleeved red-and-white striped shirt, tossing the jacket onto the other couch. “Girding the boys with a soldier's belt, the Motherland is looking at them and its eye is severe.”

 

As the choir joined in, Suka was right up in their faces, staring each of them down and without her smile any longer, having dropped all pretenses of being friendly. “What are you?” she said, matching the interrogatory nature of the choir. “Who are you? What are you ready for?”

The song continued uninterrupted, probably chanting long and hard verses about patriotic deeds, Cass thought with little doubt. But it didn't matter to her. She didn't care about whatever patriotism Suka once had, or had now. All she could think about was making it out of this place alive, and her chances were looking slimmer with the passing second.

 

“Well?” Suka asked, meeting their eyes and searching for answers. “ _Wh_ _at_ _are you? Wh_ _o_ _are you?_ _What are you ready for?”_

“What do you want, Suka?” Cass finally asked, having found her courage.

Suka's head snapped to look at Cass, with hollow, unrelenting eyes staring her down. “What I _want_ is to know why you two are… oh, how do you say… _conspiring_ like rats in corners. Why you're… oh, I don't even need to _find_ the words, I have them right here!”

Suka pulled out another holotape, playing it back. Cass didn't need to listen – she knew exactly what it was. It was herself and Arcade speculating on whether the events in Suka's vault had made her who she was, alongside their sudden realization that everything they had said was picked up with perfect clarity. Suka let the entire tape play, watching them squirm in discomfort.

 

“Cassidy, you have a choice, a lovely one if I say so myself,” Suka said, approaching them once again with a smile on her face. She pulled out a gun – the same one Benny once used – and held it up in the air. Cass and Arcade instantly tensed up, wanted to run, but the sound of Securitrons rolling into the room stopped them from doing that. There wouldn't be any escaping this.

 

“What's this 'choice?'” Cass asked.

“You decide which one of you traitors gets to live!” Suka said gleefully, still grinning. The shiny engravings on Benny's old pistol glistened as the sun rose higher above the horizon, pouring light into the penthouse like a beacon onto them.

“You don't have to do this, Suka,” Arcade pleaded. “Please, it's -”

“ _Shut the_ _ **fuck**_ _up, chetyre-glaza,”_ Suka ordered, dropping her smile instantly. “I did not say _you_ could talk.”

 

“You can't ask me to make this choice,” Cass said, searching for anything that'd help them out of this. “It's… it's inhumane, Suka.”

“Inhumane?” Suka asked quietly, as if she hadn't heard her right. “Let me tell _you_ what's 'inhumane', Cassidy. 'Inhumane' is being _raped_ every day for sixteen years. 'Inhumane' is being told you're _trash,_ human _garbage_ not even fit for vultures. I am a _saint_ compared to my countrymen. So, I will ask you again, Cassidy, _make a choice.”_

“No,” Cass replied.

 

Suka looked down on Cass, frowning. She and Cass stared each other down, until Suka looked away to aim down the sights and fire two rounds into Arcade's head. His blood splattered Cass's shirt, and he fell to the floor as more blood began spilling onto the marble floor. Suka walked over to Cass, holstering the pistol. “Let this be a lesson to you,” she whispered into her ear. “ _Never_ betray my trust again. Go back downstairs and tell Raul I need him up here.”

 

Suka turned away, quietly singing one of her songs to herself as she calmly put her jacket back on, acting like nothing had ever happened.

 

How the hell had Cass ever found herself in this situation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to listen to the songs Suka's singing and listening to, this link is the first one outside Vault 18: https://youtu.be/0q2ijYcbuxc
> 
> This is the song she listens to in the Lucky 38. https://youtu.be/ZBqNRsfosTo
> 
> Both have English captions that can be enabled on the video. I highly encourage listening/reading along to the lyrics, if only for Leonid Kharitonov's performance in both of these pieces.


	12. How It's Gonna End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass makes plans to leave Suka's grip forever, but Suka has other plans.

Arcade's death put the casino in a permanent sour mood. Suka and Raul acted like nothing had ever changed, but Veronica couldn't be deluded by her lover's lies again. She had known, somehow and someway, that Suka had killed Arcade. Veronica accepted it, but it was clear even she was becoming concerned about Suka's descent into madness.

 

If Raul had ever been affected by Arcade's death, he didn't show it. He only guarded them like a hawk every day for the next month, refusing to respond to Cass when she tried to engage him in conversation. Only Veronica and Suka could get him to say something, and even then his answers to Veronica were fleeting and mystic.

 

Suka was spending more and more time away from the Lucky 38. The approaching storm clouds of war were coming closer, and Cass didn't need a view from the penthouse to know it. The entire Mojave was on the edge of a knife, waiting for someone to slip and cut themselves, and the more Suka went out into the world, the less Cass believed she had ever intended to work with the NCR fully.

 

By now, Suka only returned to the Lucky 38 to check in with Yes-Man, make ammo, and spend time with Veronica. She heard Veronica's intense moans of pleasure through her walls each time Suka returned, the only reminder any of them had that Suka was actually a real person and not some soulless monster.

 

And yet, the nervous energy in the Lucky 38 as Raul looked over them remained. Suka had returned once again from one of her expeditions, immediately throwing her armor and shirt off as she walked in, slamming the door to Veronica's room. If there was one benefit to Suka being away so often, it was that Cass had finally worked up some courage again – but having a few drinks of whiskey didn't hurt either. It was time for her to confront Suka about what she had been doing, what she _planned_ on doing.

 

Thus, armed with only her fists and words, Cass marched up to Veronica's door, where Raul stood guard outside it.

"Cass,” Raul warned, stepping closer but not really trying to stop her. “You _really_ don't want to go in there. Boss is in one of her moods again.”

“Raul, I can handle Suka,” Cass said, ignoring him as she opened the door to Veronica's room. The minute she stepped in, Cass saw Suka smack Veronica harshly. Veronica looked betrayed, staring up at Suka with terrified eyes as the courier stood over her.

“ _Never forget,”_ Suka growled. “ _You are_ _ **mine.**_ I saved you from Brotherhood, yes? You'd be _dead_ without me.”

 

If Suka had a good reason for beating Veronica around, Cass didn't have the time to hear it. It all happened in the span of mere seconds – Cass shoved Suka away, Suka stared back in shocked anger and threw a punch that Cass took like a champ. She replied in kind and pinned Suka to the floor, staring back at Suka's rage-filled eyes. By the time she had wound up another punch, she heard the telltale sound of a revolver being cocked behind her head.

 

Suka spit out a glob of blood, her gaze unrelenting. “Get. Off.”

Without much choice in the matter, Cass released Suka's arm and stood back up, watching the courier dust herself as she got off the floor. The entire time, Suka's face was both impossibly angry and immensely disappointed with her, as if Cass was a child that had knocked over a vase or something.

“Raul, clean that up,” Suka ordered, jerking her head to the blood on the carpet.

“Sure thing, boss.”

As Raul moved away to get something to clean up the blood, Suka stared Cass down, her hands clasped behind her back. “Are you done being stupid?”

 

“Are _you_ done slapping your friends around?”

Suka's eyes narrowed. “Raul, Veronica darling, leave us alone, please.”

Raul nodded, tossing the rag he was going to use on top of the blood, and escorted Veronica out of the room, slowly closing the door as they left.

“You are _not_ involved in this,” Suka declared, still staring her down. “What Veronica and I do in private is _our_ business.”

“You bitchslapped her like she's some Freeside hooker,” Cass said. “Maybe I'm wrong, but I could have sworn you told her you loved her. Is that how you show people you love them? Beat the shit out of them?”

 

Suka rolled her eyes, still holding the same pissed-off look on her face. “ _Ty ne ponimayesh',_ ” she muttered. “I can't make you understand, Cassidy. You do not know what it's like to be me.”

“Oh, don't give me some fucking pity party bullshit,” Cass scoffed, shaking her head. “You're not any better than the dead men on your arms, Suka.”

For a split second, Cass saw Suka's face flare up in renewed anger, an anger far hotter than she had ever seen before. She seemed to be able to contain it, at least, swallowing hard and closing her eyes to regain her composure. “I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that,” Suka said, trying very hard to maintain an even tone. “Cassidy, you are very frustrating. You know this, yes?”

 

“I've heard that a lot.”

Suka sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I have tried _very hard_ to make things good in The Strip and Freeside. I have given up a good life with Veronica darling to make things good for _all_ of us. I have sacrificed my health and safety for a _year_ to make this happen.”

“If you got a point, Suka, you oughta get to it,” Cass said.

“ _You are making it very hard to make Vegas safe,”_ Suka growled.

“Safe?” Cass repeated. “That's what you're calling this? _Safety?_ Suka, look around you. Your closest friends are afraid of you. The Strip only exists because nobody realizes House is dead. Arcade was right this whole time. You're nothing but an insane fascist who's not any better than the Legion.”

 

Suka took another deep breath, probably trying to control her rage. “Cassidy, I have been _very kind_ to you over these past few months. I do not know why you keep testing my patience. Maybe it is because you hate me? Maybe you are jealous of Veronica darling?” She shrugged. “I do not know. I have bigger things to worry about.”

“Of course,” Cass replied. “Busy planning how you're going to impose your will on the rest of the Mojave?”

Suka grinned. “I already know how to do that, do not worry, Cassidy. You will see. I will change this world forever.”

 

Her smile faded as she walked away, calling out to Raul. Apparently, it was now time to travel. This was unusual. Suka usually went out alone, not trusting anyone else to leave the Lucky 38 unguarded. Maybe this was an opportunity in disguise. Veronica had finally seen Suka for what she really was – maybe the two of them could finally get out from under Suka's thumb.

 

* * *

 

 

Finding a time to talk to Veronica wasn't hard. The two were alone in the Lucky 38's presidential suite, and with nobody other than Yes-Man watching over them, it was easy to talk. What _was_ hard, was finding the right words. Cass had broached the idea of leaving to Veronica many times, but Veronica always found a way to deflect, making up an excuse to walk away or distance herself from the conversation.

 

Cass was close to giving up. It seemed like every time they talked about it, Veronica just brushed it away like it was nothing. Hell, she _had_ given up. Cass had abandoned all hope of getting Veronica to go with her, and had begun plotting how to get out of the Lucky 38 alone.

 

“Hey, Cass,” Veronica said over breakfast one morning. “So… you're serious about this whole 'leaving' thing, right?”

“Always have been,” she replied. “So, what? Did I finally get through to you? Are you planning on leaving too?”

“I… I don't know,” Veronica admitted, slowly putting down her fork. “I'm really worried about Suka. I'm afraid of what she'll do if I leave.”

“I mean, I can tell you what she'll do. She'll chase us across the Mojave.”

 

Veronica sighed, frowning as she looked down at the table. “I don't want to live my life on the run again, Cass. I did that when I tried leaving the Brotherhood, and look how that turned out. If she wants to find us, she'll do it, Cass.”

“Not if we head west,” Cass countered.

“You… you want to go to the NCR for help?” Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicious caution. “No offense, but… I don't know if they can help us.”

“Think about it, Suka's Securitrons can only go so far. The NCR isn't going to be a fan of whatever Suka's got planned. They can protect us if we just get to California.”

 

Veronica squirmed in her seat, nervously shifting her weight from side to side as she wrestled with the idea of abandoning the Mojave. “What if… what if they find out I was part of the Brotherhood? They're not really popular around there. I… I've spent so much time hiding I don't know if I want to hide again.”

“You don't have to hide. I don't think some NCR officer's going to think you'll be the start of a new Brotherhood chapter.”

Cass watched as Veronica's eyes began to tear up, and she rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. “I don't want to break her heart, Cass,” she said quietly. “She's been through so much. I don't know if she could take it.”

 

“Veronica, look at me,” Cass said, reaching across to hold Veronica's other hand. “Suka's manipulative. She's ruined who knows how many lives. What happened in her vault is _not_ an excuse for what she's done. You do not have to stand by her side after she slaps you around, you _shouldn't._ If she really loved you, she wouldn't have laid a hand on you.”

Veronica took a deep breath, as if she was building up the courage to actually bring the words out. “You're right,” she said. “Yeah. Okay. Let's do it.”

 

Right as they had agreed to do this, however, the elevator dinged. Someone, or something, was on their floor. A Securitron rolled into the kitchen, with Yes-Man's face on it.

“Hi there!” Yes-Man said, cheerful as ever. “Suka wanted me to take you two up to the penthouse when she got to Hoover Dam. Great news! Suka's already there, so that means you two get to join me upstairs!”

Well, they couldn't exactly say no to a Securitron. Reluctantly, Cass and Veronica followed Yes-Man into the elevator, and took the short ride up to the penthouse. There, they were escorted to the control room, a place only Suka had ever laid eyes on before. Countless screens showed maps, views from Securitrons around Vegas, Yes-Man's unflinching, smiling face, and, maybe most crucially, Suka.

 

“I'm _so glad_ you made it up here!” Yes-Man said. “Just in time too! Suka's about to start talking, I think!”

Yes-Man's face disappeared from the largest screen, replaced by a fuzzy image of Suka shouting into a microphone. The view from the Securitron wasn't great, but Cass could clearly see countless mercenaries in front of it, alongside other groups she couldn't quite identify. Were those Great Khans?

 

_“_ _On Caesar's birthday,”_ Suka shouted, _“a single bomber lifted from the lake will barrage the Legion! That same bomber will destroy the NCR! The Legion and NCR are corrupt, crumbling empires trying to reach too far one final time! The people of New Vegas and the Mojave will be free of empires! These empires will be destroyed!_ ”

 

She gestured to the east and west, pointing accusatory fingers at the enemy just beyond the passes. _“There lies your enemy! Watch as the bombs annihilate them! With your bullets, with your bayonets,_ _ **with your bare hands,**_ _do the same to their wretched soldiers!_ _ **URA!**_ ”

 

Cass didn't need to be a general to understand the scene unfolding before her. She watched the Legion and NCR skirmish with one another on the dam, with wave upon wave of recruit Legionaries rushing into battle against the NCR's rifles and falling as predicted. These waves of unprepared troops were replaced by veteran Legionaries, and now a real fight began as the two traded gunfire.

 

The pitched battle across the Hoover Dam raged for what must have been hours, with each side pushing back just as hard for control. NCR snipers picked off Legion officers, and once the command structure broke down, the Legion began to crumble. As if a final insult to them, Suka's Securitrons rose from The Fort, decimating the Legion from behind the lines. It was a blessing in disguise for the NCR, as they now had to deal with another army of Securitrons, backed up by Suka herself and the mercenaries she had aligned to her side.

 

Cass watched in horror as Suka stood before Legate Lanius. Even though his mask, he looked down on her with a derisive eye.

“Come,” Suka said, rolling her shoulders. “We will fight like Russians do, yes?”

“The West's treatment of _bitches_ such as you is their weakness. Woman of the West, you will learn your place, in my tent, and again when you beg for release on the edge of my blade. I shall make a cape of your skin. And your skull – it shall sit by my side, mute, watching as my armies march West.”

The Legate's bluster was for naught. Suka emptied a full magazine of her rifle into him, and just to make sure he was dead, ripped off his helmet and stabbed him in the face seven times, screaming in an incoherent rage as she did so. With the Legion demolished, she turned back to the NCR, casually walking down to the Dam with blood-soaked clothes.

 

“What is this Brahmin shit?” the general asked. “I'm not getting the feeling we're about to sing koombayah here.”

“Hello General,” Suka said. “I have terms of surrender for you.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What's this?” He read the paper, his face twisting in anger. “The Free State of New Vegas demands NCR's immediate withdrawal... _withdrawal?!_ Like fucking hell we're withdrawing! We just held the dam, we're not about to let it go!”

“Surrender, general,” Suka said. “This does not have to end in bloodshed.”

“The army of bloodthirsty maniacs with you would disagree. No, I think I'll hold out and wait until reinforcements arrive.”

 

Suka smiled. “There will be no reinforcements. I own every road in and out of here. Hoover Dam is _mine._ Leave at once.”

“I'd sooner spit on the grave of my dead mother than let some courier 'walk-the-wasteland' _fuck_ talk to me like that. Who the hell do you think you are? Looking to cash in your chips to the sound of NCR bullets, huh? I can oblige.”

“How about I ask these robots to destroy you and your entire battalion with a rocket barrage?”

The general's face twisted in anger again. “You want me to make tracks out of here, head back West, tail between our legs? No, I came for a fight today, and if you're looking to make me budge, you better have a damn good left hook.”

 

Suka chuckled, clasping her hands behind her. “I think you forget who I have on my side. Boomers. Great Khans. All of Vegas and surrounding communities. The Brotherhood was here too, did you know? Do you think they will sit back? Because all I have to do is ask them to go fight. You either have to leave, or you will fight, so decide, General. And please do quickly, I'm starting to think you want to fight.”

 

“You're right. I _want_ to,” he admitted. “But I can't. I can't fight this. You win, you insane bitch. Mark my words, though – we'll be back, and next time you won't be able to smoothtalk your way out of it.”

 

Suka watched the NCR withdraw, waving to them as they did. Once they had gotten far enough away, she turned to the Securitron that was providing their camera to the battle.

“I told you,” she said, whether to Yes-Man or to Cass and Veronica, Cass didn't know. “I would change this world. _Nothing_ will stop me from my goals.”

“Veronica,” Cass said, turning to face her and seeing her panic-filled face. “We have to go, _now,_ while Suka's not here, okay?”

“But… the elevator,” Veronica muttered, pointing to it.

“It's okay,” Cass said. “This robot says yes to anything. Yes-Man, can you let us use the elevator to go to the bottom floor?”

 

“Hey, funny thing!” Yes-Man said cheerfully. “Veronica actually reprogrammed me about… oh, nine months, twenty days, nineteen hours, twenty-two minutes and fifty-eight seconds ago so that I only say yes to Suka! And Suka hasn't told me to let you guys go yet, so go ahead! Try all you want! I'll say no every time! Isn't that _neat?_ ”

“Oh fuck,” Cass muttered. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“Cass,” Veronica said, beginning to cry. “We're done for. She'll hear everything when she gets back. Cass, I'm so scared, she's gonna kill you, she's gonna kill _me,_ oh my God…”

“Veronica, it's gonna be okay, alright? We… I don't know, we'll figure something out.”

 

Veronica didn't say anything else. She didn't need to. The two women embraced each other, finding some small level of comfort in an increasingly bleak world.

 

* * *

 

 

Suka stayed at the Lucky 38 for another three months, without any indication she was planning on leaving. She spent a lot of time with Veronica, keeping her under her thumb and closely guarded. For a while, it seemed Suka would never leave, and was content to just rule New Vegas. Like Suka had always promised, drug use in Freeside was almost entirely eradicated, and though the Ultra-Luxe had been permanently closed after Suka destroyed the family there for cannibalistic practices, the other casinos on the Strip remained in business, and even prospered. New Vegas itself became a vibrant community. Freeside, and even West Vegas, were directly annexed into the city, bringing Suka's protection – and harsh rule – to the once independent towns.

 

Before long, Suka's control extended to Primm, Novac, Goodsprings, and even a rebuilt Nipton, purged of evidence of the Legion. Suka ensured her Securitrons and local governors actively rejected stories of the NCR's rule – or Caesar's Legion marauding through the area – and instead made sure to inform the populace that there had never been any government before Suka's, only total anarchy. Suka seizing power from an incompetent and corrupt Mr. House was just the will of the people being shown, they said.

 

If you only looked on the outside, it must have seemed pretty nice. Cass knew all too well the pile of bodies that it had taken to get here. Suka had immediately begun a campaign to wipe out super mutants, ghouls, and anyone who dared raise a hand against her. Before a year was up, the Mojave was purged of them, and only humans remained. Cass didn't have to travel far to know that folk were afraid of their homes being broken into by a team of Securitrons in the night, either taken away to Hidden Valley or just shot right then and there. If Suka was feeling particularly merciful, she didn't send a Securitron, but the lone ghoul allowed to be left alive in the Mojave, Raul. For some, waking up to find Raul standing in your living room was scarier than a Securitron.

 

Unexpectedly, Suka left one day, packing for an extended trip. She didn't take Raul with her, only taking the same large bag she had snatched from her vault with her. Suka had told Veronica to expect her back in at least a month, and not to worry while she was gone. Until she returned, Raul would be in charge.

 

Cass remained locked away in the Lucky 38. She had lost track of how long it had been since she walked the wastes with Suka. At least Suka was kind enough to keep restocking the bar with the same whiskey she had drank at the Mojave Outpost.


End file.
